I Will Show You
by AsianBunny
Summary: A competition to see who can create the next idol group brings two singers to rival off against each other in order to win an international recording contract. But hate plays to the beat of the music. What secrets are they hiding? And who has it out for them that they'd want to kill? This is when they have to realise. This is not a contest. This is survival of the stars.
1. Killer Contest

_**This story will get to the heart and soul of music. Music is a way to express oneself to release all their love, sadness, and anger. Music actually saved me in a way. I've been listening to it so often my ears hurt. Not good for when I'm older. But in this story I want to entail the journeys of each character and the tragic past that they will have to overcome. The power of music runs deep for one who is broken…**_

_**Yeah, I know, I'm deep. By the way, celebrate today as the last consecutive date you'll ever live to see. Unless science has one day caught up and perfected cryogenic freezing. Find a twelve today and embrace the world you are living in. Embrace yourself just living. I know some feel like they don't belong in this world, but know that it is much bigger than you imagine.  
**_

_**Drown yourself in music if don't believe me.  
**_

* * *

_**Music empowers the soul. The soul strengthens the heart. Your heart is a vial for love. Fill it. - Me  
**_

* * *

**Chapter One: Killer Contest**

* * *

**_May_**

_It's so warm… the spotlight… _

_It enveloped me in that single radiant beam, and I'm glowing. I'm shining like a star._

_My face actually hurts from smiling as I took in the applauding crowd. Fifty thousand people, all watching me. _

_Their screams and cheers were so loud that I think I'm going deaf. __There was a sharp ringing in my ears. __But still I continue to smile. _

_They were all watching me. They were all here for me. They were all cheering for me. _

_Me._

_This moment here, will last forever. I hardly even noticed the blood streaming down my face, or that it was splattered all over the stage I was on. It was sparkling only a second ago, when I had just finished my song – my song for him. But at least it blended into my dress. It was the same colour._

_Several paramedics hauled my numb body onto a gurney. Everything was going quiet. There was this piercing screech in my ear. _

_My group members tried to shove past the security guards, but they wouldn't let them through. Was it weird I was still smiling? That I was laughing like a maniac?_

_Oh, well. I'm happy now. I feel free. So whoever was trying to kill me – whoever nearly did, I don't care._

_I stared up into the same spotlight that was blinding me before it disappeared. Everything was black, and I felt cold._

_I don't hate them…_

_…_

_I'm tired of hating…_

_…_

* * *

**_No One_**

"Here to satisfy your music cravings? I'm your MC, Marian, and this is another episode of Sinnoh M Wave!"

Wild audiences were one of the best people to sing for. The louder they screamed, the more an idol is loved. The cheers of the crowd echoed throughout the studio. Marian was glad. This wasn't Sinnoh's top music show for nothing.

"Tonight we're here to announce that the brand new season of Superstar S will be officially aired next week! Are you ready to finally meet this season's celebrity hosts?" The enthusiastic cheers from the audience were enough of an answer for her.

As on cue, the two guests entered from opposite sides of the brightly lit section just beside the actual stage. The shrieking became louder.

Marian greeted the two with a twinkling smile that showed through her white teeth and sparkling blue eyes. She lightly hugged both of them before looking back at the main camera. The guests stood on either side of the clear plastic podium she was on.

"I don't think you guys need an introduction for these two, but in case you haven't been here on earth with us, let me give you an update." The crowd laughed, satisfying their host.

Marian gestured to her right, placing a hand on the bare shoulder of her guest. "You know her, you love her, she's known as Sinnoh's Beyoncé – everyone give it up for M&M!"

The vocalist smiled a sweet smile to the sea of people that seemed to make her skin even fairer. She winked one of her sapphire eyes and grinned from ear to ear when she caught a few guys whistling.

Marian then motioned to her left, not feeling at all embarrassed as her fingers trailed down the fine leather jacket of her other guest's chest. "He's the apple of every girl's eye, the bad boy hottie with the voice of an angel – ladies let's hear you scream for Drew Hayden!"

The MC, along with the female portion of the audience, joined in a chorus of disarrayed squeals.

The singer smirked, earning another series of screams, only this time the sound of swooning resonated from the girls closest to the stage. Their voices became even hoarser when he swiped his light emerald green hair away from his face.

Marian gleefully made her way off the podium to the front of the detached platform, microphone in hand. "These two stars will compete against each other to create the next idol group to take Sinnoh by storm! The winning host will receive an international recording contract from Star Empire – the collaborated music company from all of the five united regions!" The crowd was getting giddy from the suspense of it all. "Tune in to the show every Saturday for the next twenty-four weeks and vote for your favourite singer!"

M&M posed playfully for the camera on her right while Drew gave a toothy grin to the one on his left.

"Who will be the next global sensation?"

* * *

"Three days," Harley says. "You have three days left to look for another member to finish your group, May!"

She hates it when Harley tells her things she already knows. He repeated himself several times the past week since the last episode of Sinnoh M Wave and she was getting tired of it.

"It's not my fault they pulled out at the last minute," May says breathlessly, concentrating on her movements in the mirrors before her. The music was so loud she could barely talk to her manager. "I didn't think they'd get stage fright before the show even started." Sweat trailed down her face as she twisted her legs in a series of steps, going with beat of the song.

Harley starts groaning again. He was under a lot of stress, with Superstar S on their case about an incomplete group in all. He tried to make it seem more urgent to May, but it just looked like she didn't care.

May finishes her dance with both hands on her hips as she slightly juts her pelvis to one side. She stares long into her reflection. The sensual yet guarded expression on her face always seemed to make her performance that more alluring towards the end.

Even after nine months she still remembers the moves to her debut song as if it were permanently etched into her mind and body, which it may as well be.

The singer struts past Harley over to her dancing bag and pulls out a small towel. She dabs herself with it as she takes a long refreshing gulp of water from her bottle. Harley still continues to whine in the background.

"May, take this more seriously!" he says almost desperately. "If you can't make a four member group by the deadline you'll be forfeited from the competition!"

After a moment of silence, with nothing but the swishing of water filling the dancing studio, May wipes her damp mouth with her wrist and says, "Who said I wasn't serious?" She doesn't even look at him when she says it. Her hard glare was staring straight wall in front of her.

_Getting angry at the wall is pointless though,_ she tells herself as she closes her eyes and packs her things.

Like before, she hates it when Harley repeated himself. After the first time May is told something she completely ignores the other times someone says it again. She wasn't a child.

May swings her bag over her shoulder, making her way over to the stereo set on the side of the room and unplugs her red iPod from the dock. "I'll have someone by tomorrow, I promise."

With that, she left Harley in the room with a not so steady mind. She didn't even dare to think of the traitor who deserted her group at the last minute.

**_May_**

I threw my bag down on the floor of the change rooms in a fit of rage. Luckily no one was in here, I checked.

I could feel the growl in my throat, the grinding of my teeth. I turned to look at the mirrors. My eyes were practically lasers as I looked directly into them.

Forfeit? Please. I wouldn't let him win that solo contract even if I was dead. The thought of that happening makes me sick. I seriously think I might throw up.

My head really did feel a little dizzy. I held myself up by using black silver specked marble bench. _Deep breaths_, I think to myself. I take a few before feeling a little better. I couldn't think like this. I need to listen to some music.

I took my earphones that were dangling from my top and put them in. I connected them back to my iPod and pressed play. I didn't care what was on. They were all good songs. They were all of _my_ songs. I felt calmer after a few tracks.

I sighed as I took my hair out of my ponytail and ran my hands through it. I did the best I could to style it. It was soaked in sweat after all. The blonde looked a little simple though. I made a mental note to go to the salon to do something to it before the show this Saturday.

Oh, right, the show, the final member. I almost let that slip my mind.

How was I going to find someone to replace the last one? It was so hard to find usable talent in this industry.

I tried to think of a way to find someone by recalling how I found my other members. The first was scouted at Music Fest a few months ago, the second I chose from auditions held here at SM Entertainment's studios, and the third was just by pure luck. Who knew there was actual talent to be picked off the streets these days?

The last one I refuse to think about. They're a traitor and a loser. They're dead to me. Right now my main priority was to get my fourth and final member.

I still ended up idealess by the time I changed out of my practice clothes and into a new clean outfit. Oh, how I loved lace. I made it look good with plaid leggings.

I blink and shake my head. I'm getting off track again.

One last member!

Sighing I perch myself on the bench. I lean my back on the cool wall and prop my legs over the sink. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples as the music continued to play in my ears.

I was too stressed to think of another member. All I could think about was the countless songs we spent months producing for their first full length album, the choreography steps that took weeks to perfect, and the one instrument that will continue to collect dust from now on.

And I only had one day for someone to do it all.

I mentally groan before the physical one escapes my lips.

I shouldn't have promised that to Harley. I say things I don't mean when people are on my case sometimes. It's too late to take it back now.

Grabbing my iDex out of my bag I scroll down my contact list and skim the names of the people I know and consider them for the position. But most of them are already famous, and I'm pretty sure they don't want to move down in the music industry ladder.

I puff a piece of stray hair away from my face when I finally reached the bottom. I stare long and hard at the last name on the list.

When was the last time I talked to them? Were they still in school? I don't remember much of their personality, but I do remember that dance we did together. I closed my eyes and smile at the memory.

I decided my final member.

Wow, that was easier than I thought. And here I was stressing like my manager.

Before I call them though, I had to tell Harley about my choice so that the show could film me while I told them; for backstory purposes. Everywhere I went to find my group members, a camera from Superstar S would always be close by. They were recording the makings of four stars; and me of course.

I slide my phone in my bra strap as I jump of the bench and slip into my platform pumps. I take my bag and trail out of the change rooms into the halls of SM to find my group.

I had always liked the building, with its eco-friendly assets and the fact that it was practically made of glass. It was several stories high, but there are too many floors for me to explore. I had neither the time nor the interest. Knowing where the dance and recording studios were good enough, them and Harley's office.

I step down the wide wooden planked spiral staircase to the second floor and make my way to the recording unit of the studio.

I pull one of my earphones out and press my ear on the thick cedar000 door of recording room 4B.

They were so loud, but they definitely knew how to use those instruments.

I close my eyes and took in the melody. I could see the notes floating around in my head.

The strum of a lead guitar, the pluck of a rhythm guitar, and the beating of the drums, they all blended well together. Did I know how to find talent or what? I practically picked the three brightest stars in heaven.

I smiled as I peeled myself off the door. But no one is brighter than me, there's no equal comparison.

Not even _he_ can stand next to me.

I feel satisfied knowing my group was working hard. They were loyal to me, at least the current members were.

I place my ear bud back in and skipped along to Harley's office to tell him the good news.

**_Drew_**

"Pull up the vocals here," I say to the trainee editing the final touches to my groups soon to be debut song.

He nods and adjusts a slider on the control panel before hitting the replay button.

I grin in approval at the finishing product. "Thanks Robert," I say as I pat him on the shoulder and get up from the swivel chair identical to his. "You've really made these songs better."

He gives me nothing more than a smile and a two finger salute as I leave him to carry on editing some other projects he was stuck with.

My iDex stars ringing when I close the door to the studio. I pick it up and continue walking. "Talk to me,"

"That is no way for a renowned singer to answer the phone," I laugh as I twist and turn through the corridors of Starship Entertainment. "Seriously, it's a little beneath you and a kind of cliché."

I slightly roll my eyes at how critical my manager was. "Calm down Solidad, my line is only reserved for you and the others remember?" I hear a sigh on the other end as I take the glass elevator up to the third floor where the dancing studios were located.

"How are they anyway?" she asks immediately after, her tone perking up. I exit the lift and follow the tune of one of the songs I had spent months producing.

"I'm checking up on them now," I say as I peer through the window portion of the door the music was seeping out through.

My members seemed to be hard at work rehearsing their choreography moves. They have been practicing day in and day out. I made sure of that.

I lean back on the wall beside the door and pull my phone back to my ear. "We're definitely going to win this thing," I say confidently to her despite the reaction I knew I was about to get.

"Don't let your ego get the better of you," she says sternly as I mimic her words even though she couldn't see me. "You're good at what you do, but M&M is a rival you should really be concerned about."

M&M. That name always reminds me of the chocolate brand. It's hard to take seriously. But for Solidad's sake I'll play along. "You're right, I won't get cocky," I say half-seriously half-playfully. "That is until I take that solo contract from under her feet." I hear Solidad sigh yet again, but this time she doesn't say anything else concerning M&M.

She knows how I get when we talk about her for too long.

"Do what you like," she says exasperatingly. "Just remember to stay in check when you see her at the photo-shoot this afternoon." With that the call ended.

Oh, right. I had to see her today. The thought of her made me somewhat irritated. I don't exactly remember when or why I started to hate her, but the feeling was always there, and I know she felt the same way.

I slip my cell back in my pocket and head for the ground floor, but not before telling my group to get ready for the shoot.

I left just as they were going through one last run of their song.

"Timmy, can you call the van around?" I ask the receptionist as I stood by the counter surrounding him.

He nods and starts playing around with his black headset. By the time the ride comes around my members are already changed and scrambling to get to the entrance.

I lead them to the curb and open the sliding door. The four take their place in the back while I sit up front by the driver.

One of them activates the television connected on the roof of the van and Sinnoh Now is instantly the first program on. I recognised the voice of their main host before she appeared on the screen.

_"Some online forums have been discussing the rumour that singer M&M has lost one of her group members."_ The reporter says as a thumbnail of the blonde appears by the top right corner of the screen.

My interest took the better of me as I listened in despite how much I loathed her. _"Her group competing in the third instalment of Superstar S has had countless group activates to promote themselves. The performance only featuring three of her members and herself sprouted up these rumours. What will happen if M&M fails to complete her group by this week's deadline?"_

That question left me to ignore the rest of the broadcast and to simply just smirk to myself.

Luck seemed to be on my side in this contest, and I hope it stays like that.

**_May_**

I admire the makeup work of the artists at Superstar S's studio as the crew behind me prep up the white sheet and camera lights for my photo-shoot session.

I especially liked the red M&M earrings the accessory stylist gave me for the shooting. They dangled every time I made a move. I was told I could keep them after the photos were done, so I guess that was another reason why I was still staring at myself in the mirror wearing them.

I had to get some profile shots done today and I'm going to have to tell them that the last member on my team will have to be rescheduled as there _is_ no last member. But I'm going to leave that last bit out for the time being.

I fix the corner of my mouth smeared with matte pink lipstick when the assistant photographer called me over.

I take one last look in the mirror and smile. My newly dip dyed strawberry blonde tips matched well with the platinum. I flip one crimped section over my shoulder before making my way over the plain white backdrop.

The instant I saw him, my poker face went up.

**_No One_**

The two smiled, the two posed for the camera, but neither of them spoke to one another.

You could feel the hostile tension between the pair, but to everyone else it was simply a competitive aura emanating from two idols.

Both of their groups stand off to the side awkwardly observing the two.

Drew's members were getting fitted with their costumes while May's was in the middle of hair and makeup. All seven of them could feel the rigidness of their lack of interaction from where they were. All were weary of the competition ahead of them as they glanced at the opposing group.

Only one of them will take over Sinnoh's spotlight while their host goes international.

"That's good you two," the head photographer says to Drew and May as he lifts his gaze from the camera. "Now can you guys go back to back?" It wasn't really a suggestion as it was a simple order.

May swallowed a breath before doing as she was told.

She didn't want to speak to Drew let alone touch him. But she was a professional and wouldn't let that little peeve bother her.

The vocalist presses her back against her competitors and stared dangerously at the lens for a strong looking shot. She could tell Drew was doing the same thing from the way his mussels were tensing. It slightly bothered her that he was a head taller than her. It would make her seem small when the viewers would see this shot plastered all over the region. Then again it would give her some cute points as well.

Drew puts on a seductive smile for the girls that would have his poster stuck on their bedroom walls, and without moving his mouth too much, leans his head back to lean on May's. She quietly groans at the motion. He was silently insulting her height.

"What's wrong Skittles?" Drew says as he mentally chuckles at May's faltering expression in his peripheral vision. "Heard one of your members ditched you. Did you lose some of your confidence about winning the SE contract because of them?"

May squirms her way out, causing Drew to lose balance moment before catching his footing. May entwines her fingers behind her head and lifts up her hair, exposing her bare neck. She smiles on the inside and out when the photographer turns to her to take a few shots, leaving Drew in the absence of few frames.

"Don't mention that traitor to me again. It's none of your business anyway," May says through her pearly white teeth. "And please, I have confidence practically oozing from me. After all, I _am_ the crowd favourite." She winks with a hint of a giggle and the shutter goes off in a repeated fashion.

Drew conceals his amusement at the back of his throat in the form of a laugh.

With a simple flick of his hair the camera lens returns to him. May scowls for a second when the attention is not on her anymore.

"I think that's me you're talking about," Drew says looking suggestibly at the camera.

A few female crew members momentarily halt to openly gawk before moving on to what they were supposed to be doing.

May made an indignant humph sound before tossing her hair. The camera revolves back to her.

"We'll let the region decide once this thing airs," May says as the two go back to back again as directed by the photographer. "Let the best singer win."

Drew smirks. "Glad you see things my way."

May resisted the urge to back kick him in the shin and just continued to smile.

The camera flashes blinded her, but she didn't mind. She wouldn't mind anything as long as she was on top.

She wanted the fame. She wanted the spotlight. And she wouldn't let anything stand in her way from getting what she wanted. Not this time…

The final click of the camera resounded. May wasn't going to let him win her solo contract.

Not the contract, not the fans, nothing.

She wasn't going let Drew have anything.

_Everything_ was going to be _hers_.

_Everything…_

* * *

Pictures, hundreds of them were plastered all over the four walls of a small windowless room.

Some were blurred, others out of frame, but all of them had one thing in common; the girl with the big blue eyes and platinum blonde hair. They were all of May.

May on stage, May at the airport, May outside her apartment complex. It was entirely May.

_ I will get you, May._

One photo of May's debut album was ripped from the collage. A shaky hand gripped it tightly. Their hateful eyes drilled into May's, which were scratched out by something sharp. Their fingers slowly wrapped around the picture, crinkling under their nails, ripping into the paper as if it were May's naked flesh.

_I will kill you._

* * *

_**I want to make this story as realistic as possible, as in how songs and performances are planned, romance and such. This will have a mix of K-Pop, American and other styles of music, but mainly K-Pop because it has the widest range of variety.  
**_

_**Yes, May is blonde and a little self-centred in this portion of the story and the reason why will be revealed later on. She will revert back to her original personality over time so don't worry. **_

_**I plan to have two covers for this story made by the next chapter that will feature both groups and their host. I will also be working on each one of their profile pictures for the show. **_

_**So who do you think it trying to get May? Remember there are more characters to come so keep that in mind. Tell me your thoughts in a review please :)**_

* * *

**XOXO AsianBunny**


	2. Rivals

_**I have this really long playlist planned for this story. The selection of songs I have will really get to you if you take the time to absorb the melody and lyrics. As I travel through some dead part of China I listen to them for inspiration and guidance. **_

_**And it is true by the way. China bans Facebook and YouTube. I thought people were joking about that, but it's true. **_

_**All I've been doing is sleeping, walking and eating, while also trying to find some Wi-Fi everywhere I go, with much luck I might add. I should be excited, but I'm not that much really. Anyway rock 'n' read on!**_

* * *

_**Reviews:**_

_**CierraLuvsPokemon4Eva: I'm glad you haven't seen this plot idea before :) It's good to know because I like using fresh storylines. So who do you think is trying to kill May? I want to hear your thoughts about it.**_

_**Guest: Oh thank you for giving me a review for the sake of it. That's really sweet X) Reviews are one of the reasons I strive to write faster.**_

_**Apheleia: Yeah I noticed that too. I wanted something new so I decided to create this plot. Even now my mind is still developing the drama. The format for Superstar S will be like the one in my other music oriented story Miss B, only I've upgraded it, so it will be different to what you're thinking from my guess. I think that the Brianna bashing has become a cliché as well. Like I said this is new, so my original ideas will be shown here. The plotline will be completely unique, I promise you X) May blonde is hard to picture, I know, but this story is mainly about the characters developing through their pasts. I will be sure to reveal the reasons behind May's current persona later on in the story. And thanks for the grammar stuff. I like improving so I'm glad you can help me :) I fixed some things in the last chapter so thank you again.**_

* * *

_**It takes one to form an army, but two to create a war. - Me**_

* * *

**Chapter Two: Rivals**

* * *

**_No One_**

"Welcome to the first episode of Superstar S, season three! We're your contestant hosts, M&M and Drew Hayden!"

The two competing singers stand back to back, splaying out their free hand that did not bear a silver microphone out to their side.

The camera caught their movements in perfect sync as they separated and made their way down the short staircase on either side of the platform.

M&M takes her place on the left side of the brightly illuminated set they were filming at while Drew took the right. They were in the watcher's point of view.

The stage the hosts are on was a checkerboard patterned dance floor that lit up in various colours. Surrounding them was a raised area higher up that the small audience stood to witness the performances. There were an infinite number of spotlights placed here and there. M&M smiles at the thought that they were all shining on her.

"Today we're here to introduce our group members! I'm so excited; I've been waiting for this moment for the longest time!" M&M says, placing a hand on her blushing cheek.

Drew nods in agreement before turning towards the camera, holding his mike close to his lips. "Then shall we bring them out for the whole region to see?" His rhetorical question executed the cue for the two groups to enter from either side of the set, taking their position beside their host respectively.

M&M jumps in her place as she waits for the cameraman on her right to focus the lens on her. "To all the girls in Sinnoh, let me give you the next four heartthrobs to fan girl over – CN Blue is in the house representing SME!"

The boys beside her smile in the same direction as their host. The one on the end however couldn't even grace the camera with a hint of interest. M&M mentally made a note to work on his character later on. "What about you Drew? What's your group called?"

The said singer smirks as he turns to his own quartet. "Hope everyone can handle what my girls got. Starship is proud to introduce, made in Sinnoh, SISTAR!"

Only half of the foursome of girls exposed their striking personalities through strutting around the stage blowing kisses before returning to their place. The one closest to Drew opted for a simple smile while the girl who stayed put on the spot winked towards the camera.

"Now let me introduce my members!" M&M says motioning an arm to her group. Drew said nothing more and let her take over for the time being.

"First up is the leader of CN Blue, main vocalist, main rapper and rhythm guitarist, everyone let me present to you, Gary Oak!" The rookie singer grinned roguishly as he spiked a bit of his hair. Several girls squeal from the stands.

"Next up is lead guitarist and vocalist, Ash Ketchum!" With a boyish smile and a tip of his cap, the gesture was enough for the audience to know he was glad to be there.

"Drummer and backing vocalist, let's hear it for Jimmy Gold!" This boy wore a cap as well but it was positioned to the rear, which gave him a rebellious yet youthful sort of appeal to him. His charismatic aura was practically bursting out when he took centre stage and back flipped for the cameras. The crowd screamed that much louder.

"And last, but not least, its Paul Shinji as the bassist, rapper and backup vocalist!" Despite being the least enthusiastic one out of the four, Paul managed to earn a chorus of cheers of his own. M&M realised the bad boy image just might suit him.

"Now onto my girls," Drew says after letting the crowd calm down, causing the camera to swirl to him. May inconspicuously grits her teeth. She didn't like it when her limelight was taken, _especially_ if Drew was the one to replace her in it.

"SISTAR's leader, main rapper and dancer, give it up for Leaf Green!" She simply nods and slightly bows towards the cameras. Instantly her reserved personality shone through her movements. Nevertheless the wolf whistles in the audience upped her popularity.

"Beside her is Dawn Berlitz as their main vocalist and lead dancer!" With a bright smile, big innocent eyes and a charisma like any other, Dawn captured the crowd through making her way to the middle of a stage and twirling on her toes three times like a ballerina in a music box, completely stealing Jimmy's thunder.

When she returned to her place their host went on. "You may know her as the Fourth Sensational Sister, but here she's triple threat Misty Waterflower as the leading vocalist and dancer!" Using only her two fingers, Misty smacks a teasing air kiss to the camera, accompanied by another wink.

"Finally we have vocalist and visual, Marina Crystal to wrap up the group!" The last member posed a sultry look over her shoulder. Behind up on the platform, several boys cheered.

M&M and Drew moved forwards so that they were closer to the stage, leaving their groups a good few metres behind them.

"Everyone knows how Superstar S works right?" M&M says to the audience behind her. Although they responded positively, she still answers the question. "Each week we are given a mission by the producers that not only help them find the best singers, but the best stars for the entrainment biz."

Drew nods. "We have spent months creating songs for a full album which will be featured in this hour long program, so obviously our first mission is…" Drew trails off to turn around. M&M follows his movements and stares at the large screen placed overhead the platform they were on at the beginning of the show. It was the size of a small wall.

The Superstar S logo floated around for a few moments before it disappeared in a flash of light to reveal several lines written on top of a vintage music score background. Everyone took a few seconds to silently read the message.

* * *

**_[Mission One]_**

**_Debut the groups on Sinnoh M Wave's stage with a song produced by their hosts. The song should be carefully chosen. Whatever is decided will be the first impression Sinnoh will have of each group. Good luck stars._**

* * *

"Well that was an obvious first mission," May says with a shrug. She turns back to the front with a wide smile. "Next week will be the official debut of our groups, so look forward to it Sinnoh!"

M&M winked at the end, but her gesture was overshadowed by Drew who stepped in front of her, blocking her left side. "Remember to download the show's app, Superstar UR, to your iDex now, because it's the one and only way to vote!"

M&M slithered her way back beside Drew as if she weren't bothered by it and together they concluded to show. "Tune in next Saturday for another episode of Superstar S! This has been M&M and Drew Hayden and we're signing off!"

As the lights draw to black and the camera's red light fades away, May's joyful expression withers as well. She gives her mike and earpiece to one of the stagehands before making her way off set.

She had to get used to this. She had to get used to talking to Drew like they were friends. Did she like the fact they had to rehearse their dialogue together because of a script? Nope. But what would it look like if she were to complain to the producers?

Just because the Sinnoh region voted for their favourite host, didn't meant that fair play was definite. Every company had their strings to pull, and May did not want to find out Jubilife TV's before anything has really begun.

Drew's feelings were mutual was well, so he had no problem with her stalking off immediately after the end.

He handed his cue cards and the same equipment May had to a crew member passing by. He hadn't even realised one of his girls slinked away from their group, approaching what he had to call his supposed competition, CN Blue.

"Hi I'm Dawn," the main vocalist says as she halts in front of the four boys. May, off the side of the stage, keeps an observant eye on her group as she speaks with Harley on her phone. "I hope we can work well together, and no hard feelings to the winner." As she held out a hand for the leader of her rival group to shake, the reaming members of SISTAR enter the conversation from behind.

Gary stared at her hand for a moment before looking up at Dawn. He searched his mind to say something in response, but his mouth suddenly became dry. He was thankful he didn't have to say anything when May arrived, creating a barrier between the two groups.

She slaps Dawn's hand away – when she was sure there were no active cameras around – like it was a fly, causing her to back up cautiously. Misty glared at May as she takes her fellow member's wrist to inspect for any damage.

"What are you doing interfering with my boys?" May orders protectively, her eyes narrowing. "If you haven't realised baby girl," – Dawn's cheeks puff at the name – "this is a contest, and I don't want you fraternising with my group unless it's necessary."

Dawn's knees now felt weak, but she tried to keep her stance despite this. "I was only saying hello…" She passes a distressing look towards Leaf, who has not been affected by the conflict.

The rapper turns and glances in Gary's direction to see him looking away from everyone. It was as if he was detached from the world. She then slightly glimpses over her shoulder as the noise of her own host's footsteps approach. She chooses not participate in the meaningless banter, even to defend her own member. She'd decided it was best for Drew to handle it.

"As much as I hate to agree with _her_," Drew begins begrudgingly, "I don't want you interacting with _them_ either." He jerks his chin in the direction of May and her group, who all become offended by the emphasis in his words.

Dawn's mouth hangs open, unable to produce a response, so Marina intervenes, snapping her jaw back into place. "It's impolite to stare Dawn," she says. "And you'll catch flies like that." The visual then looks up to Drew with an empathetic look on her face. "I understand what Drew and M&M has to say. It would be best to keep our distance if it doesn't concern the show."

May stays silent for several seconds, examining Marina and her calm persona radiating from her very being.

"Right," she says after a while with closed eyes. "Let's go boys; we have a debut to prepare for." With that, May twirls on the sole of her heel and struts away from her rivals.

Once they were out of earshot, May could feel Gary hovering over her shoulder.

They weren't touching, but she could feel his body heat on her skin. "Thanks for saving me back there," he whispers in a grateful tone. They were now out of the studio, making their way to their van to take them back to headquarters.

May straightens her posture as if she was proud of what she had done and simply says, "No problem."

She turns around and puts on a small smile reserved for only her boys and her boys alone. "I have to keep my boys away from any dangers of the female idol kind," They reach their ride and May slides open the door.

"They're the kind of people that can get you killed in this industry."

* * *

**_Leaf_**

Our debut song was chosen months ago. We have already been filmed in the making of it, so all we have to do is rehearse.

During the ride back to Starship Dawn kept staring down at her hand. Whether because it was in pain or she was thinking about May, I'm not sure. I don't know when Dawn's admiration for her began, but I can tell her respect for the singer obviously hasn't been bruised by her attitude.

"She's probably just stressed about the contest," our main vocalist says as we pass through the entrance of our record label, with Drew leading us like a pack. He chose not to say anything even to humour Dawn. We all knew how much he despised May. Or at least I did. "I mean, I would be too if I had to take care of four _boys_. That's why Drew has no problem with us, right Drew?"

Drew was silent as he walks, but considering I was beside him, his ghost of a grin was exposed. Misty and Marina, as well as I, raise a brow somewhat defensively at him as Dawn innocently waits for an answer.

She catches up to Drew's other side with her hands knitted behind her back. An expectant look was on her face as she leans forward to examine our host's expression.

"The crew will be here to film your personal views from the past few weeks," he says avoiding Dawn's inquiry. His grin is long gone and was replaced by his more serious face, one that we all called normal. "Remember this is your only chance to show your individual selves off to Sinnoh, so go with what best suits you." We all chorus in a mix of understanding responses. "After that we'll work on the second mission." With that, Drew left our group to prepare for the short interviews.

I wonder what our second mission was as the four of us head up the glass staircase on the left side of the lobby up to the locker rooms to get changed for rehearsal.

I understood that the hosts were already informed about the twenty-four missions ahead of them, but I wondered why we didn't broadcast the show after we filmed everything.

"It's because of the publicity," Misty explains as she places her outstretched leg on the wooden rail of one of the choreography studios and bends her right arm over her head. "If Superstar S were to save the footage of the show for the full season, word will have already leaked out about us and our songs."

Marina hums in agreement as she lifts her flat upper body from the floor in the middle of a side split. "You know how the fans get, they gossip about stars like we breathe air."

Dawn makes an understanding sound as she fixes the laces on her dance shoes and makes her way over to us. "Oh, so that's why we prepare a week ahead of every mission," she says in realisation. "I thought it would be hard to juggle two missions at once, but I guess we don't have a choice."

I silently thank Misty with a subtle look of appreciation for telling me the answer I wanted to hear.

We were all prepared for the next six months with the missions, Drew made sure of that, but just because he has gotten everything figured out from beginning to end, it still doesn't settle the uneasy feeling I have in the back of my mind. I don't feel assured about it for some reason.

"Leaf, can you put on the song?" Misty requests as she and the others of my group get into positions.

I make my way over to the side of the room and activate the tablet bolted to a metal stand. I type in the password for our personal playlist and tap on the song we would be debuting with.

As the melody bounces around from wall to wall, I take my time getting into my place beside Dawn and Misty.

I crush the mint in my mouth between my teeth and the overpowering flavour rejuvenates my vocal cords.

This is what I have been waiting for. After all those hopeless auditions I can finally debut.

I still feel a little guilty though. Giving in so easily wasn't something I was used to, but with this song I can finally make them happy.

So even if I feel like this, I will sing.

I will sing for them.

**_Paul_**

"I can't believe I agreed to this," I say to May as she plays around with the control panel in one of the recording rooms she dragged me into.

"_I_ can," she says turning a dial. The lights on the scale beside her go up. "You've wanted to debut for a while right? Well now's the time." May sighs when she finally finishes adjusting the settings on the board and twirls in the black leather seat she was on to face me.

I look away and find interest in the coffee coloured wall to my left. "I'm still trying to figure it out though," I say folding my arms. May crosses her legs, placing her cheek in her palm elevated by her elbow on the arm of the chair. She stays silent and continues to listen to me. "I didn't want to debut in a group. I don't owe you anything, so why am I here?"

May looks out in the corner of her eyes, contemplating on an answer that I will probably find unsatisfying. "Maybe you want another-"

"Forget it." I put a hand up to emphasise my point that I don't want this conversation to continue.

May conceals a small laugh as she shuts her eyes. She is still the same after all this time.

"Let's start on your vocals for the song," May declares turning back to the panel. "You checked out the music and lyric sheets I gave you right?"

I nod as I make my way into the booth, papers in hand. "One week isn't enough time to study a song your group spent months learning you know?" I take a seat on black stool set in the middle of the room by a matching rack and mike.

I place the sheets on the stand and take the headphones hanging on it.

Once I put them on I hear a beep. I look over to May who was leaning into the thin wire mike on the panel, pressing the speaker button. "You were always a fast learner, and don't forget your part of my group too." May smiles again and all I can do is sigh.

"Just play the song."

**_May_**

After about the fourth run of the song the rest of CN Blue arrived.

"Oh good," I say looking back and forth between them and Paul. I flip a switch so that the music was mute on my side of the studio before turning to them. "I need you guys to practice your song with Paul. He has to get his base parts down pact by the debut performance."

Ash plops lazily on the tan leather couch while Jimmy props himself over the control panel beside me. Gary, as always, keeps his distance and leans on the wall beside the door.

"Is it really okay to swap the piano piece with the base?" Ash asks with one eye closed. He plays around with the rim of his cap as he yawns. "I mean it's a little risky to change the song now." He pulls down his hat and I know he's about to fall asleep.

Seeing him sleepy makes me feel drowsy too. I pinch the bridge of my nose to get myself to stay awake. "I already got Joshua to edit the song and adjust everyone's part to fit it in, so don't worry."

I had almost completely forgotten about the piano segment. Even now I can still hear it. Too bad no one else will. It's a beautiful piece to simply throw away…

"So do you want us to practice with him now?" Jimmy asks as he lifts the headset I used to closer examine Paul's vocals down to lay around his neck. I could slightly hear him still singing through them.

I nod, twisting back to face the music board. "Yeah, I want you guys to know the beat of new version of the song off by heart."

I see the l scale beside me slowly decreasing back to zero. I press the intercom button and say to Paul, "That was good. Now I just need you to rehearse with the rest of the boys." He gives nothing more but a subtle jerk of his chin as a yes even though I knew he wasn't one to socialise.

I smile as I gather my things and turn off the sound system. I pull out my iPod out of the dock and checked that Paul's vocals were recorded and labelled properly.

When I confirm with them that I had everything the five of us exit the room, with Gary at the back, and make our way over to the studio in another section off the building where their personal instruments were located.

I turn on the lights and place my satchel on the couch as my group enter the booth. They take up their respective instruments as I activate the larger, more equipped music panel.

I liked this studio better as it was much larger. The deep green hues and wooden flooring also did a lot for the ambiance.

"Are you guys ready to knock those girls of their pretty little heels?" I say to them, smiling as I lean back in the comfortable chair identical to the ones in the other studios. I had already plugged my iPod into the port.

Gary, Ash and Jimmy all hide a small chuckle while Paul twitched a hint of a grin as he tuned the navy blue base I had just bought him.

My boys will definitely reign over Sinnoh once I go international. I am sure of that. I _will_ make sure of that.

"Then let's start."

* * *

After dropping off my group back at the company dorm, I return to my own loft just a few blocks down. It was owned by SM as well. I remember when I had to stay in that cramped up flat back when I first debuted. I had to room with a few other trainees.

Now that I've been upgraded, I have to say, a part of me missed that small bedroom.

By the time I dragged my things on the white tiled floors up to my level, I finally sigh in relief once I reach my door. I stand there for a moment staring at my doormat.

Something was supposed to be there; something that I walked over this morning as if it didn't bother me.

After who knows how long I look back up. _Brock must have cleaned it up, _I deduct as I use my key to get into my apartment. The lights automatically come on when I shut the heavy door.

I lazily throw my things to the living room on my right as I walk towards the kitchen to my left.

Dinner was already made and caringly wrapped in a sheet of plastic. It was just sitting on the counter as I approach it with a growling stomach. I hadn't realised how hungry I had been.

Taking the covering off the clear glass plate, I start eating Brock's famous apple curry. I couldn't be bothered to heat it up. Luckily his cooking was delicious no matter what the condition.

I take generous spoons of rice and bits of potato as I filter through the bag of fan mail I had left sitting on my Alice blue granite bench earlier in the day.

I chew with my mouth wide open as scramble through the sack, still listening to my iPod I had on since the ride back. _White, pink, blue,_ I sort the various coloured envelopes in my head. I was way passed considering reading them, not until I find that familiar letter.

I knew it would be here because today was the day it came after all.

The enigmatic colour of black graced my fingertips once I had dug to the bottom. I caress the scratchy exterior of the envelope with my index finger as I wonder what was inside.

A small matching package accompanied it this time. I leave it to the side and continue gazing at the letter.

The metallic red lettering of my name on the front was something I had become accustomed to. The way in dribbled down the envelope like blood was hard to forget.

Whoever this hater was knew my real name. It's not even on my Pikapedia page.

To all of Sinnoh I'm known as M&M. The only person who called me by May was Harley, and that was only in private. Everyone else simply called me M. I made sure that no one would find out my name, because I know where that would lead to…

I'm just glad Harley is good at his job.

Unaware of myself, I take a deep breath. Each time I was in the presence of these letters I become tense.

I use my freshly manicured nails to gently tear open the back. It was so suspenseful each time I hear the ripping sound of the paper through my earphones. Was it a coincidence I was listening to a very angry song to accompany the moment?

When I finally break through the barricade between me and the contents of the letter, I see the familiar looking words formed by cut-out magazine letters stuck on the card.

**_A gIfT tO cOnGrAtUlAtE yOuR gRoUp… _**

My throat swallows a lump as my eyes hover over the rim of the letter to the box still lying beside the pile of scattered fan mail.

I set the mysterious letter down next to it and pull the package closer. It was small, not even big enough to fit an enlarged Poké Ball, but nevertheless the size did not deter the chills shivering from the back of my neck.

As I pull the crimson red ribbon off, destroying the perfectly tied bow, I remove the lid. I hitch a sharp breath.

I drop the cover instantly on the floor as I avert my eyes up to the ceiling despite the blinding lights overhead of me.

I can't believe it has amounted to this.

I could handle the threatening letters, the disfigured photos, but now a dead Rattata? This was getting ridiculous.

I cover my mouth with my hand in hopes of keeping down my dinner. The deceased animal was maimed until it was nothing but its limbs. If this wasn't animal cruelty I don't know what is.

That was a lot of blood for such a small animal…

I couldn't take it anymore.

I raced around the counter to the sink and emptied the contents of my stomach. I still had enough sense to pull my hair back as I felt the bile rise to my throat.

The Rattata was obviously kept in that dismembered state or a few days before it was sent to me. The smell itself confirmed that.

I knew I had to get rid of it before anyone saw. Haters standing up for other haters are something I rather not have to face outside my home too.

It only takes one person to form an army, but it takes two to create a war. If people start getting brave then I'm going to need a personal bodyguard, and even then I wouldn't trust them with my life.

I slip in and out of my flat to the garbage chute without anyone to witness me sneaking around in between.

I threw away the box, but I take the letter and put it away in the draw filled with all the others. It was getting a little full.

I ignore the pictures of myself with my eyes scratched out lying on the top of the pile.

My breathing starts to slow back down to normal when I slam the draw shut. I lean back on my desk set on a level higher than my living room in front of it and close my eyes. The music played loud in my ears.

I don't care if they send me a dead _person_, they can hate me all they want and I would still understand. I was filled with so much of it if I were that hater then I'd do the same or probably even worse.

I reopen my lids and stare at the window. My reflection faded with the shimmering lights of Jubilife City.

First I'll take Sinnoh, and then I'll take on the world. No matter what I will crush him until he's nothing. I wasn't going to let any hater stop me until I accomplish just that.

_Because no one could ever amount to how much hate I have inside me…_

* * *

_**I feel so inspired to write because I feel so much pain right now that it makes me want to add it to this story. Have any of you ever felt broken beyond salvation before? Well writing helps a little. Not that I want to bother you with my problems, but I hope I can reach my feelings out to you all when I begin to write about pain later on.**_

_**Well I said I was going to have my covers posted by now. But I am still currently in China so, no scanner, no pictures. I'll be sure to do them as fast as possible once I return. Hopefully I'll be able to find one. If there isn't one I'll search on tirelessly until I upload those pictures. **_

_**So how was 12/12/12 for you guys? I commemorated the day by dip dying my hair red. Its holidays now so I'm allowed to go rebel just like everyone else. But it's so annoying that the dye is coming out on the towels everywhere I go. Oh well. Wonder what else I can go crazy about cause I feel like rebelling against my parents. I'm sure everyone thinks this at one point in their life. Now would be my time…**_

* * *

**XOXO AsianBunny**


	3. Introducing

_**I was kind of a downer in the last chapter wasn't I? Sorry about that I wasn't in a good mood, but now I am! People who know me know I have an unbalanced personality. You would love me when I'm in my ultra-happy mood. Happened only once last year XD Other times I can be really depressed and shouldn't be poked. **_

_**Anyways just make a note of it, when the characters are performing, their costumes are what the actual singers wear in the YouTube links that I will put at the ending cut. I will assign them each a role to correspond with the songs. Occasionally I might use songs that don't have performances, but I will still put a link to it. Also, the lyrics will be personally altered by me for copyright reasons. Apparently something might happen to my story if I don't but I don't know what. Oh by the way, I was thinking of making this a bit like a musical, what do you guys think?**_

_**I don't own anything by the way. Not the songs, the record labels or the groups. Should have mentioned that at the first chapter but I'm saying it now.**_

* * *

**_Reviews:_**

**_CierraLuvsPokemon4Eva: Oh thanks :) Is it better now? 'Cause I kind of changed it up a bit. Let me know how it is. And you're sweet, thanks for the offer, but I'm okay now. I was just caught uploading at a bad time. _**

**_Guest: I already uploaded it. Sorry you had to tell me again and again and again and again._**

**_EmpressPyrus: Oh hey you read Pokémon stories too, cool :) Thank you even though I feel I've hit a major slump at the moment. And I guess most people write to get rid of it, like a form of release. _**

* * *

_**They say you have to love yourself before you can love someone else. But how can there be room for someone else when you only have yourself in your heart? There is a line to stop at. You can't love someone else if you only love yourself. - Me**_

* * *

**Chapter Three: Introducing…**

* * *

The life of a singer isn't as easy as what most magazines and fictional books make it out to be. Those stories – written without as so much as a second thought about what drivel they were throwing into those intuitive minds – are nothing compared to what they do, because every day they have to face the world and keep their image proud and appealing.

Love for an idol was like a coin. There are two sides to it: heads or tails, love or hate, live or die. That is what a singer will face when they walk down this path. It is backbreaking, taxing work, and they have to live with it if they wanted to keep that spotlight.

There were rules they must follow as well, as there are in many businesses. Strict schedules for their songs, diets, concerts, public events etcetera, are planned to the T. Even the most charismatic of people get strained from all the attention. The type of dedication it takes to wake up in the earliest hours of the morning – even before the sunshine could even spill into the room as the world's sign to get out of bed – is an essential asset in order to make it through this industry.

So May doesn't get an orange tinted bedroom and a chorus of bluebirds to wake her up in the morning, that's fine with her. The smell of Brock's cooking wafting through the crack of her door was good enough to pull her out of the covers. Thanks to him she could tolerate the dark grey haze of four thirty a.m. most mornings. Brock could not however – no matter how good the breakfast – make her feel happy about waking up at such an hour; she had to suck it up though. Just _thinking_ about waking up when actually waking up was tiring. May couldn't help but stifle a yawn.

It was quiet in her room – too quiet. It annoyed her. That was when she realised her headphones have popped out of her ears. After a short night's sleep her entire iPod had made a full run of her playlist … and now it was _quiet_. The silence was almost … unappealing to her. So as May trudged out of bed – alerting Brock of her awakening from the sounds of ruffling of blankets and a disgruntled groan – she sets her music player to shuffle as she herself shuffled to the bathroom.

May was gradually awakening from her dreamland state as the opening of one of her songs, _Volume Up,_ made her unconsciously swing her hips. When she was missing the brush of her side slitted floor-length skirt, she settled for a slight sway as she brushed her teeth. The sound of saxophones made her tingle.

By the time the chorus came in, May was already grooming her unruly blonde tresses in a way that very much resembled the choreography to the song. She resisted the urge to hit the high notes when she sung. The neighbour upstairs would have a fit again.

Feeling refreshed with the tang of strawberries lingering on her tongue and her wild mane tamed, May strolled into the kitchen – one earphone pulled out and left dangling in the air – to greet Brock, pink floral apron in all.

"Morning M," he says happily with a salute from his greasy spatula. The crackling of oil popped in the background.

May smiles and mumbles her own hello as she slides into one of the island stools. Her eyes instantly set on the spread before her, marvelling at the perfectly stacked crepes smothered in what smelt like salted caramel butter. Brock was spoiling her today.

For several noted seconds, May silently debated with herself about eating the mouth-watering meal as the music blasted through one side of her ear.

If she even _nipped_ at it, her trainer Maylene would get on her case. _Your comeback is in a couple of weeks! _she'd say. Or: _Just because you have a stomach the size of Sinnoh does not mean you can eat whatever the hell you want._ Then, she'd make her exercise like some pet hamster on one of those squeaky wheels.

Even her diet plan was like a hamsters'. It mainly consisted of bland vegetables, an occasional piece of meat, and some fruits, but it only came in small portions once every three hours until – what Maylene calls – "tummy curfew" at seven. May was also required to carry a bottle of water and can't have any other beverage besides that. Her trainer made sure she'd never leave the house without some on her person, and after a while, it had become an instant habit.

May complains sometimes (only to herself of course), but has learnt over the years of training to just smile and nod; the polite and less likely way to get kicked out of the music industry. After lots of lessons and practice from her facial expressions coach, May was now a master of pleasing the unpleasable. To get what you want you have to first get everyone one your side.

She doesn't try to dwell on practically starving herself for hours at a time, but thinks about the feast she was going to get after her comeback performance. Only _then_ did Maylene allow her to stuff her face beyond recognition. That scheduled show however will not happen for about three months from now, so May sneakily settles for the crepes after a long time of consideration. Maylene can make her kick box with her later.

"Thanks for dinner by the way," May says to Brock as he cleans the dishes in the sink. She nibbles the end her fork for something to do as she stares at the bubbles gathered from his fingertips to his wrists. Their fragile surfaces shimmer in every colour of the rainbow. The caramel syrup trickling down her throat slowly diminishes the flavour of her strawberry toothpaste.

Brock turns to give him one of his smiles; the one that always said he cared. "No problem," he says with no regrets. "It must be tiring to stay over at the studio so late. I miss cooking with you just sitting there."

She manages a small laugh (just to amuse him) as the four metal barks scrape down her chin. His less than entertaining jokes were good pick-me-ups in the mornings, May realised. They were the kind of jokes that you laugh at because they were sweet, but bad, yet still surprisingly funny. Brock's cooking couldn't make her feel good about getting up in the mornings (only just barely), but _he_ certainly could when she combined the two.

"Was there one yesterday?" he suddenly asks in the midst of scrubbing down a pan.

May knows he was referring to the black letter because he jerks his head to the bag of fan mail he had cleaned up and placed to the side of the kitchen. They weren't strewn all over like they had been yesterday, but looked like they were picked apart, one by one, and arranged so neatly that the bag appeared a little boxy. Brock must have been trying to find the dark envelope, but has again, ended up fruitless in his endeavours.

May nods with a hum of affirmation, sucking on the tips of her fork. She stares absentmindedly into the air.

Brock stops cleaning. "Was it more marred photographs?"

She forces a yawn (which soon became a real one) to move away from the subject, and clanks the silver utensil down to rest on the side her glass plate; like a gavel sounding at the end of court. End of discussion.

"Yeah," May answers as if I meant nothing at all. "They were the same as last time, nothing out of the ordinary." _Well for me at least._

Brock murmurs relived sighs under his breath, his hands sinking deeper into the dishwater. He quickly resumes washing up the frying pan he used to cook the crepes with even though it was now spotless and grease free. Perhaps he thinks if he made it any cleaner then the fiasco would come to an end. May wishes it was that easy.

She also wishes to tell him about the dismembered animal, but she wasn't going to. What good would that have done? It's not like Brock was in any way related to her, so he wouldn't guard her front door to protect her life or anything (_if_ her life was in danger that is). But personally, May had to say he was as close to a family member she had. He was such the sweetie, with a heart of gold to match. But for some private reasons that she herself could not understand, May still did not trust him, let alone with her life.

She held no grudges or resentment against him, it was just that trust was something that May considered of more value than anything above all else, meaning she doesn't trust _anyone_. Making Brock sign a confidentiality agreement before becoming her housekeeper should be enough proof of that. It was a pretty normal agreement anyhow, even if she _did_ trust him he still had to do it. Standard procedures.

"I'm still surprised how well you're keeping it all together," Brock says astonishingly, drying the cup May drank with earlier before (water only). She honestly couldn't believe it either. "All the others are having panic attacks when no one's looking."

Sometimes May wonders what would happen if those other singers – the ones Brock also worked for – got hate mail like hers. They probably think that they have it worse at this very moment, only getting critical comments about their skills as a singer, or how they could never live up to legends like Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston. A rare few of them get any blemished photos. As of last night, May was the exception to dead animal carcasses. And she knows she's the only one.

Brock places the perfectly shined crystal into the cabinet above the sink as she slips away back to her bedroom, muttering a low, "Well that's them."

May knows when she closes the door that Brock was drilling holes in her back. She thinks they were looks of concern, and for one second, she feels cared for. But just as the thought passed as quickly as it came, she wonders if he hates her as much as everyone else did. And by _everyone else_, she means anyone that has ever associated with Drew Hayden.

Strolling into her walk in closet, May strips out of her pyjamas and into the new outfit she had decided on the night before lying one the chaise lounge in the middle of the room. Slipping on her shoes she checks the time on the many jewelled watches placed neatly on her accessories table. It was a little past five. She hopes it was Sinnoh time and not some other region as she heads towards the living area, her messenger bag swinging by her left hip.

Brock hears her clicking heels stepping down into the den, and he knows she was gathering her two sunglass cases – the red and blue ones – before leaving for work.

May keeps the red case in the unzipped pocket near the top of her satchel while she stuffs the other one way down the bottom. For extra coverage she messily ruffles her leather bounded notebook (slowly falling apart) on top of it along with an assortment of coloured gel pens.

Brock waves her goodbye as she heads down the hall by the kitchen and May couldn't help but think he was like the mother she never had. The feminine pink apron (that was _not_ hers) really helped with the visual. Her imagination was running wild with the concept.

Sometimes she wondered why Brock didn't have a girlfriend. He was the complete package after all: romantic, could good like a god, and was as innocent as mago berry pie. He talked about love so frequently, too. It's like he was off in some other world when he gushed on about Suzy, or Melanie, or Tierra, or – or… actually never mind…

May smiles her perfectly trained smile (tensely discarding her earlier thoughts), and heads for the front door. But as she touched the cool metal handle, she couldn't help the instinctive deep breath she took to brace herself. Calming her mind and body first will make things better. It wasn't some meditating thing Grace hypnotised/taught her to do. May was afraid that if she didn't do this every morning before she left then she might have one of those panic attacks Brock's clients say they have. And she was _not_ like those novices.

When May finally decided to open the door – inhaling another sharp breath – the familiar scent seeps into her home, completely weakening the frangipani and apple incense she had lit the day before she went to bed. May had already knew what she was about to see before her mind even registered it. She glances down to the doormat with the expectation fulfilled.

Slowly, she bends down to cautiously picks up the bouquet of dead roses encased in black and red cellophane wrapping. The aroma becomes stronger when May faces it with a passive countenance. Her expressions coach was supposed to teach her not to look like that, but she couldn't help it. It was just that smell – the fragrance of dried potpourri mixed with the odd scent of peppermint strangely added – was like the scent of death to her.

May counts the flowers in the bunch with her dead fisheyes. Seven in total, one for each letter she had received, which has been one a month and counting. She came to realise with each added rose that the letter comes on the fourteenth; only and _always_ on that day. And every day since the first letter, before she goes to work, she wonders who takes the time to send her these. They must hate her a lot.

"They've been coming earlier lately haven't they?"

May jumps at the sound of Brock's voice from behind. How long has she been absentmindedly staring at the flowers? After all these years of climbing the idol ladder, May was paralysed by the sight of dead roses. She could handle any melodramatic diva (besides herself), she could handle working non-stop in the studio for days at a time, but to be scared by _this_ … May couldn't help but feel a little ashamed of herself.

Without much sense in her mind, Brock easily removes the bouquet from May's hands. "I didn't notice them when I came in this morning."

She couldn't even respond with so much as a thank you as she was now gazing at her palms. She hadn't realised they were spotted with dots of blood until they started to build. May didn't like spotted patterns.

She grips her fingers and balls them into fists before Brock could notice them and tell her to disinfect them. He would go rushing around the apartment searching for the first aid kit that didn't exist and make May sit and hold out her palms like a physic at a séance if she _did_ show him. May ignores the one thorn that was still pricked into her skin. It moves deeper into her hand.

"Well I better pick up my boys," May says, dismissing the bouquet and bringing the life back into her eyes. She adjusts the strap of her satchel around her shoulder, careful not to stain the creamy leather with her blood. "You know how they get trying to get Ash out of bed."

With a subtle wave goodbye, May escapes into the confinement of the elevator that finally decided to arrive on her floor. She releases a sigh of relief seeing Brock dispose of the flowers out the chute like the trash she thought it was. May presses the ground floor button on the panel with a clear mind.

She can only hope that he didn't see the blood of that Rattata streaked town the shaft like she did when the metal doors finally closed shut.

* * *

Gary ignores the sound of Jimmy banging on Ash's bedroom door as he turns another page his_ Guide to Kanto's Water Pokémon_ textbook. He quickly skims the first few sentences and then highlights a line relating to them printed on a separate sheet stapled with several others using a bright green marker.

"Dammit Ash," Jimmy grunts under his breath as he rests his fist for a moment. He resumes bashing the wooden door a second later. "For the last freaking time wake up! M is on her way to pick us up and I don't want to have to wait around for you!"

Jimmy, Gary had learnt about in the past couple of months, has this thing for punctuality. He doesn't understand that aspect of his personality as it doesn't seem to fit in with the rest of it, but Gary found it as a pro rather than a con. He had to admit, he liked it better when _Jimmy_ was Ash's living breathing alarm clock rather than him. Gary had his studies and music to concentrate on.

After he gives up beating the wooden door, Jimmy goes into the small kitchen area beside the plasma television in front of Gary and takes a few ice cubes from the freezer. He didn't have the sense to wrap them so they just laid there on the counter as he sets his throbbing hand on the gradually melting substance.

Gary takes only brief looks of his actions before turning back to his papers.

_Blastoise is the next evolutionary step after Wartortle. The thick jets of water they shoot from the cannons on their backs are strong enough to cut through steel plating. When in danger, they hide inside their armoured shells. Blastoise is so popular among Trainers that it's considered the definitive Water-type_.

Blocking them out has been getting easier and easier by the day. He can hardly Jimmy quietly cursing in the corner.

By the time Gary highlights a lyric sheet worth of lines, the jingle of keys rattle outside their front door.

Neither Jimmy nor he flinches when M enters the flat. She was their host, and for the time being, their manager, so it became natural for her to come to and from their apartment as she pleases. They have gotten used to it too, although her timing could not be any more impeccable. Gary couldn't even count the mornings where she would show up – announced or not – and something inevitably embarrassing occurs (all instigated by either Ash or Jimmy and Gary just somehow manages to get tangled up in the mess).

"Morning my Sweets," M says kicking off her shoes by side. They are probably now lost in the mountain pile of sneakers and high-tops, but she doesn't dwell on that and hops up the step to enter the mutual area of the house (she knows that every other room was off limits, but doesn't really care and thinks the rules don't apply to her).

As always a smile graced her face and the satchel by her shoulder rattles with the unidentified items hidden inside.

Never has Gary seen her leave anywhere without it, at least not out on public activities. She'd have that bag with her 24/7 at the studio, and who knows where else. Outside though, she had an image to uphold – and a credited fashionable one at that – so he guesses taking the same (although timelessly stylish) satchel around would get her criticised a fair bit. Not that doesn't realise of course.

Gary flips a stapled page behind another and couldn't help but notice that pair of black fingerless gloves she was wearing. Strange, he had seen them somewhere else before. He thinks about the many times he had passed M rehearsing. She had worn the gloves then when she needed extra grip to get down some tougher moves that included cartwheeling and backflips. Gary chooses not to question the meaningless as she points to Ash's door.

"Still sleeping?" she says in the form of an inquiry even though she already knew the answer. The two boys nod and she sighs. "What about Paul?"

"Morning run," Jimmy quickly explains wiping the bench as a small pool of water begins to drip down the cabinets. Gary knew he would be unaware of the ice melting. He gets distracted easily. Not more so than Ash, but only concerning the smaller things, Gary observed. He effortlessly restrains himself from telling his friend off and simply turns back to his papers, unaffected.

"Oh, by the way Gary," M begins ruffling around her bag for something. Papers crackle and something crunched, but she was finally able to pull out what she had been scrambling for.

Looking up from his textbook, Gary was met with a box to his face, extended by M's hand. It was a small, plum coloured box decorated in such a way that made it hard to even remove the professionally tied ribbon. The bow was printed with a designer label pattern that Gary recognised, but for the life of him he can't remember which one. All fashionable brands were the same to him.

He blinks at the box before lifting my eyes to meet hers. "What's this for?" he asks, preparing himself to deny the box if it was a gift like he thought it was. He wasn't much for presents.

M rolls her eyes in a predictable/playful sort of way as she shakes box as an indication for him to take it. Gary hears something rattle inside – metal perhaps? It sounded like something of that variety. He stares at the package for a few more moments, speculating about what it contained before saying, "You know I don't like presents."

He turns his attention back to his book as a hopeless attempt to push M away. It was a shame that he knew her too well and that she was going pester him about it until he gives it up an accepts the gift.

Only after several minutes of uncomfortable silent pouting and Lillipup eyes did he take it (she was on the verge of fake tears okay). Gary is careful not to touch M's fingers and she is the same.

"Whatever it is you know I'm not going to keep i–" He stops himself when a questionable pair of leather half palm gloves lay in a mess of lavender tissue paper. They were plain black and made of Italian leather – he could tell by the smell. There did appear to be some metal caps attached to where the knuckles would be.

Gary had to sigh as she smiled. He didn't think M would take him seriously when they had that discussion last night (and many times before that). He wonders how she had the time to get them.

"Do you like them?" M asks hopefully, disregarding his earlier unfinished statement about not keeping her present. "I got them custom made in Johto. Thin, durable, easy to wear and they won't tear." She takes note of his furrowed brow and then adds. "The style is like that because we can't have _all _your skin hidden. Girls don't like that."

Gary does not notice M's suggestible wink as he had already turned back to the gloves. Does she really think this would work? He said it with a dismissive air after all – one that meant that it was a possibility, but didn't really to be thought about so seriously. Well, _he _thought about it seriously, he didn't think anyone else, let alone M … He should've known better from her though.

She kneels down to the wooden planked floors and sits on her legs across from him. M gives him a look of pity and a shake of her head. She was disappointed in him … great…

They're nearly at eye level as Gary was on the ground too, but he still managed to beat her about a couple of centimetres. Only a low glass coffee table piled with all his things separated them.

"I want you to wear these from now on," she says, a serious expression plastered on her face. "Since you guys will be doing more public activates, one can't be too careful."

It was a rarity for M to speak with such seriousness (save for anything to do with the music biz) with him. She was always so carefree around them – so content, like they were a family. Gary has not failed to notice the hostility when M confronted SISTAR the other day. He felt protected, like a mother would do for their child. Gary couldn't tell if he should be grateful to M, or disgusted by the twisted feeling inside of him. Both were fighting it out with one another, but he decided to leave it be. He didn't like fighting (he didn't like things he wasn't good at).

M was giving him that look though, the one she only ever made that look when it counted the most. In the beginning he always questioned her why most of the time, but after a while of getting to know her, he stopped. With visible effort, Gary restrained himself from declining the gift and sorted himself out. M didn't need to know that he _was_ going to wear them.

"Wow," Jimmy piques as he takes a seat on the hunter green coach behind Gary. "You're speaking more and more like Gary by the day."

She shoots him a tilted head look, telling him to shut up, and Jimmy complies (although just barely). The two start bantering about something that Gary couldn't really pick up (not that he tried) so he took the time to examine the gloves in more perspective.

Somewhere off the course of who knows how long, M joined forces with Jimmy in order to wake Ash up. Gary hears a thump and the floor just faintly vibrates. He didn't need X-ray vision to know that Ash probably fell from his bed and was _still_ unconscious.

Quietly, stealing a look at M to make sure she wasn't looking, Gary slips on the gloves, and for some reason, the feeling of defeat and dread crawl up inside him.

* * *

Debut stages are what made a singer. It significantly outlines the ranking you are at in the beginning of your career. Some blend into the other groups and solo artists because their talent isn't definable enough for the audience, while others are so sensational they get to sing with even the greatest of stars.

It was a question of time and skill that has to correlate in the most perfect way in order to achieve the major points in the first show. The countless hours of practice and rehearsal to perform on that stage for the first time, gives and removes something from you. It's like taking your first steps, it's scary, but once you do it you'll have something that you can take away from the experience for life.

May remembers her debut stage as if was yesterday. That spotlight, that applause, it was … exhilarating…

Drew remembers his as well. The stuffy clothes, the blinking red light of the camera telling him where to look, but that stage … that stage was worth all the bruises and sore throats.

They don't reminisce about their personal performances together though. It's not like they were friends, and they certainly didn't want to start the inevitable fight while they were filming. The two were smart like that. So they kept to themselves and … tolerated each other.

May made herself comfortable on a cushy seat by the row of lit vanities as a makeup artist gently applied some glitter on her fake eyelashes, one sparkle at a time. She plays around on her phone for something to do while she looks down to let the woman do her job. May waits for the Superstar UR (United Regions) app to finish downloading before entering the screen. It was free so on a whim May decided to get it.

The voting system was definitely unique, May had to say. And that's all it was, a way to vote. She wouldn't be so petty as to vote for her own group so easily. May didn't need to when she knows her group was going to be popular. It was a given.

With an interested mind, yet bored expression on her face, May tapes into the Unova link and skims the details about the hosts of that region that were currently in the semi-finals of their show. May lays a cheek on the back of her hand and wonders if she should consider them as competition.

That is the first thing that pops into May's head at the alert of a new singer: _Are they competition – are they a threat?_ It became a reflex over time; one that she hadn't thought was pointless because it was a good instinct to have. It was like the animalistic nature of detecting danger.

And just like that, her Spidey senses went tingling the second Mariam entered the room. She made her way over to Drew and they idly chatted about something that appeared to be funny. May forgot he was even in room. She turns back to her phone as a sign not to bother her, but it was an ineffective attempt.

"So do you two agree on how we're going to pick on the final performance for the night?" Mariam asks when she approached May with a comforting pat to her shoulder.

May smiles her smile, turns off her phone and slips it in her purse on the vanity (her satchel was at home). "Yes, of course." One of the accessory stylists coincidentally latches a black watch on her wrist as if she was a lifeless mannequin with no feelings. May doesn't really try to acknowledge them as she checks her makeup in the mirror. A little too much foundation, not enough gloss.

Mariam claps with a relived sigh. She thinks May isn't much of a diva as everyone says. Any by _everyone_, May means Drew.

"Oh great!" she says, almost tempted to do a twirl. "This endorsement will sell big if it's you two promoting them."

Only when Mariam touched Drew's shoulder as well did May realise he was in the seat beside her. Just the slight glimpse of him made her take a brief breath to mentally prepare herself. _In and out, in and out,_ Grace taught her. _Don't let people in this industry stress you; it's easy to fall for their tricks. _

It surprised May at times at how wise Grace was for a yoga instructor. When she wasn't twisted like a human pretzel in one of their sessions, May actually contemplated about advice she had given her like: _Never go out on a lunch date with someone higher up than you._ Or: _Treat fans like animals do at the zoo: look presentable, stare, but don't let them touch you. _

But the one that really stuck – the one that was for some reason was constantly on her mind was: _If you're going to date, remember that the person you love might not love you back._

It was absurd, as May said to Grace the day she brought it up. Like she was ever going to date with how well things were going for her now. That, combined with the fact that she never really fancied dating (besides in the dramas she watches), ultimately resulted in her disinterest in the subject whenever Grace remerged the topic.

"– got that guys?"

May nodded without much thought. Mariam however seemed excited about whatever she had confirmed to and skipped out of the dressing room with a stagehand at her heels. May couldn't be bothered to dig through her subconscious to figure out what though.

"You didn't hear a goddamned thing she said, didn't you."

This was Drew's voice. Drew's cool, yet condescending voice that went through her left ear and out the other. May hops out of the chair and moves closer to the mirror, running her fingers through her blonde hair to give it more "pizazz", as she would say if anyone else but Drew was here. "I blanked out after you started talking." She pats an imaginary smudge on her perfectly applied peach pink lips.

"Are you going to act like that on camera too?" he says almost hopefully. "If you did it would make me look so much better."

She laughs – sharp and not amused. "Lucky for you there aren't any for now, but just so you know" – May turns on her spike studded boots to finally face him, no matter how much it sickened her – "whether I look good or not – I always do anyway – doesn't matter." She inspects the bejewelled hearts of her acrylic nails like they were more interesting than him (and they were to her). "My group will be ranking the top of the charts and that's all that matters. They'll be up right beside me in no time."

"Probably somewhere around the triple digits, right?" Drew snipped, smirking.

"Twenty to ten more like it. See how popular I am after all these months on hiatus?" May knows after a long time of harassment from him not to fight back without thinking through what she was going to do and say. In some rare moments she gives in and feels humiliated, but this was not one of those moments. "I don't remember where you rank though, sorry."

Drew had to, he just had to sigh. It came out disgruntled and raspy, like he had been restraining it for quite a while; probably the second May entered the room. "You just think you're the queen of everything don't you?" he said with a forced laugh. Drew pushes his gelled hair out of the way but it had more or less stayed the same.

May leans back on the vanity and points at him as if he had made an excellent point (for once). "Now _that's_ a title I could get used to."

Drew scoffs. "You're just -"

"Unbelievable?" May suggests with a smile that she knew irritated him.

"You know what? Forget it." Drew abruptly stands up from his seat, shooing away the crew member telling them to get on stage in five. "Let's have our groups decide whose better." This time he lets one of the stagehands hook his listening piece in his ear and pass him a mike with his name plastered on the front in shiny green lettering.

Another is doing the same to May as she fiddles with her own name that was sparkled red. "Sure, but it's not like it's already obvious."

* * *

Dawn has the inkling suspicion that Drew and M&M were the new promotion models for the new PokétchLite coming out sometime next season when she sees them talking animatedly with Mariam about picking the final performance with the help of the new and improved Coin Toss app.

The small TV bolted to the ceiling provided little detail to what was happening on stage while she and the other girls were in their dressing room prepping for their performance. Marina was being fussed over by a horde of makeup artists, Misty was having trouble clipping on her mike set, Leaf was being forced into her all too tight costume, and Dawn … well, Dawn was meekly sitting on the couch beside an empty clothing rack, silently stressing.

Dawn swallowed a dry breath as her eyes remained on the ever so amazing M&M in awe. She was just so stunning, so talented, so utterly perfect that Dawn couldn't help feel a little nervous (and intimidated) living up to her debut performance only months ago. She remembers herself watching it from her old, cramped up, one bedroom apartment. It was, undoubtedly, the most inspiring moment of her life. And that was why Dawn still didn't believe she was here, so close to M&M, and about to sing to her first audience. That terrified her.

After all, M&M was the girl with _the_ voice. As in she wasn't going to be just _a_ star in Sinnoh's music history, but soon enough _the _star. She wouldn't be a girl who was going to be the next Beyoncé as everyone says; _she _was going to be her own star. _She_ someone else's next. _She_ was going to be a legend. Dawn hopes that _she_ would be the next M&M.

With that thought now passing through her mind, Dawn could not be more anxious than she should. Her soothing slow breaths soon became faced paced hyperventilating, her twiddling thumbs became clawing, and no help from the crew member handing her some calming medicine tablets could do anything to stop.

What if she wasn't good enough to be the next M&M? What if this whole thing was the biggest mistake of her life? What if she fell on her face 'cause these heels were extremely uncomfortable? What if she wasn't popular enough and got booted out of the industry forever forgotten? What if-

"Calm down Dawn!" Misty ordered shaking her shoulders.

Dawn rattled back and forth until her eyes became lucid and her breathing became normal. She blinked blankly a few times before realising Misty was right up in front of her face with a mike pack in her hand and a thin cord tangled up in her clothes.

Misty gave her a look of … disappointment? Concern? Something along the lines of that as she stood up straight and placed her hands on her hips. The wire loosened up around her waist just a little bit. "Look, I know this is your first show ever, but believe me it's not a big deal."

Dawn would have felt better if she didn't know that this was probably Misty's millionth – no, trillionth! – show in her life.

Misty Waterflower: the fourth Sensational Sister. She doesn't like to he referred to that though (she had a very descriptive "discussion" with Drew about it after filming the first episode of Superstar S to make her point); just plain Misty was fine, except she wasn't "just plain".

If M&M weren't Dawn's number one idol, then it would've been Misty, who was a definite second. She was another one of those stars that had a _the_ at the beginning of their names, like _the_ Hulk or _the _Batman. And just to state a fact, she could beat any superhero any day of the week.

_The_ Misty Waterflower was a made a star the day she was born (when she was featured in some blockbuster movie as a baby), and since then, with the training and natural skill she had, Misty became a star, separate from her own sisters.

Standing next to her made Dawn feel really small, like a flower bud next to a flourishing blossom. She just can't compete. Sometimes Dawn wonders why Misty was here in this rookie group in the first place. When she begins to calm down (she took the pill that the crew member handed to her as instructed by Misty), Dawn's mental list of reasons becomes significantly longer.

"It's the biggest deal of my life…" Dawn didn't scream it to the heavens like the melodramatic diva on those soap operas she watches. She said it slowly, breathlessly, like she was on the verge of tears – tears she spent years bottling up. Dawn swallowed another capsule and dowsed it down with her second cup of water. At least _something _was helping.

Misty takes a moment to sort out her own personal thoughts. She forgets sometimes that to others, things like these were dream awakening experiences; while to her it was normal, tedious, and a standard routine.

Licking her lips she holds out her mike set out to her and says in her authoritative voice, "Help me put this on."

Dawn, somewhat confused (and a little stoned) at the change of conversation, wordlessly takes the pack and gets up. Misty faces her back to her and she clips it to the back of her leather shorts, making sure the cords weren't in the way. She swallowed again. The last tablet was left a jarring sensation in her throat.

Was this what it had come to? Was she going to have to take pills at the beginning of every performance to calm herself down? Dawn closes her eyes tries to think about a time that could make her feel a little less stressed, and a little more excited.

This was her big day, probably something she would consider bigger than her _wedding day_ if she ever got married. She wanted more than anything to feel psyched about it. _Anything…_

But when nothing but black appears in her mind, Dawn felt disheartened for but a mere second before Misty patted the tuffs of curled hairs on her head and says, "It's not a big deal for you because _you are_ a big deal."

Dawn's hands suddenly became limp as they hovered in front of her. Misty puts on her vest to cover up the set as she stares at her with a sense of purpose in her eyes. It hides the wire that leads all the way up to her nude headset.

Dawn couldn't help hug her from behind. Misty became caught off guard as she adjusts the mike and glances over her shoulder to see Dawn smiling with her eyes shut. It made Misty blush and turn away.

"Thank you," Dawn says with the upmost sincerity. She felt so touched, she felt like she was cared for.

"Just … thank you…"

* * *

"He needs a little more concealer."

Ash groans when he is reapproached by the makeup artist as ordered by May. He gives the woman this attempt of an intimidating look, but it ended up looking as threatening as a glowering Jigglypuff: cute, but hard to take seriously.

"I don't need any more makeup!" Ash whines, which to the other members was considered white noise. Nevertheless he didn't fight it when the flat brush stroked the patches of skin under his eyes. He did, however, grumble a little as he closed his eyes, slightly pouting like a spoilt child.

May laughs amusingly to herself with folded arms. This wouldn't be a problem if he'd use the eye patch masks _she_ uses at night, but that apparently was too "girly" for him. This _also_ wouldn't be a problem if he'd get more than just four hours of sleep a night.

May would have given him a lecture about the importance of beauty sleep if she didn't know the reason _why_ he stays up so late. So instead, she makes him feel as much as a girl as possible in return. It was only fair.

"Well _I _think you do," she says humorously, examining him in the mirror with her hands on his shoulders. "Those Spinda eyes can be seen from the back of the studio, trust me." She motions her index finger from left to right (or was it right to left?) over his head, indicating Ash's bags to emphasise her point.

When the artist was finished blending out the neutral formula, May finally deemed Ash stage ready with a double pat.

"Have you checked out the instruments?" she asks looking over her group to make sure they were properly dressed: leather jackets, check, leather pants, check, leather everything else, check. "Sorry you couldn't bring your own ones, but you'll have to make do with the ones Sinnoh Wave provided us."

Jimmy somewhat nods as he twirls a drumstick effortlessly in his hand. May is always mesmerised by the motion. He had personally brought his own as he never went anywhere without them, much like his cap. "All their instruments are tuned and my set is ready to beaten the hell out of."

May laughs one last time as she makes her way to the door. "Well good luck. Remember you're up second last." With an internal sigh, May repeats to herself in her mind, _Second last._ She twists open the knob and tries to think positively. _Second last isn't so bad. _

Before she closes the door, May gives her group an encouraging fist pump gesture and cheers, "CN Blue, fighting!"

The four manage a chuckle at her rare cutesy outburst. May remembers the first time she heard that catchphrase was when she watched countless Sinnoh broadcasted music programs like Sinnoh M Wave and S-Pop Countdown. In the cuts, each and practically every singer would say it, sort of like the singers version of break a leg. And since then, she wanted to say it too. May never really got the chance to say it to anyone else though. _She _was usually the one hearing it from the other end.

_Saying _it instead of _hearing_ it made May feel a little nostalgic.

May takes one last look them all and smiles at Gary as the door closes into a crack. It clicks to a shut as she presses both her hands from behind to secure the latch in place. He was wearing the gloves.

* * *

To say that the audience was excited would be an understatement in and itself. These people – holding up banners and phones with the name _CN Blue_ on them – were fanatically crying out to them like a moth to a flame. They were borderline super fans.

Although the boys were concealed by a shadow of darkness – waiting for spotlight to alert their performance – all of them were thinking the same thing: _She has made us popular beyond belief even before debuting._

Gary thinks about the times they sung with M during her shows. Ash thinks about the TV appearances they made the past few months. Jimmy thinks of the meet and greets they accompanied her on. Paul thinks about how different she had become.

"I wanna come back," Gary says into the camera as the spotlights flicker on. His toothy grin was noticeable enough to earn a set of squeals.

Ash and Jimmy restrain themselves from laughing by grinning themselves. They both share a discreet look with each other and think that Gary would be an amazing actor. Instant 180 spin right there. Gary looked like a whole other person. Correction: he _was _a whole other person.

They boys were centred under a white wood pavilion that appeared to be made of stone. The large screens behind them presented to image of white roses as their backdrop. It had a Victorian styled ambiance to it.

The tune of a piano segment plays through the speakers to start off the song. May had managed to fit it in as she found it a waste to leave the original composition untouched. She really did have a soft spot for it.

The leader of CN Blue looks down below and spots a group of girls and winks. "Beautiful day..."

* * *

_**Song: Hey You**_

_**Artist: CNBLUE (**__**씨엔블루**__**) **_

_**Album: Ear Fun – 3**__**rd**__** Mini Album**_

_**Roles: Gary/Jung Yong-hwa, Ash/Lee Jong-hyun, Jimmy/Kang Min-hyuk, Paul/Lee Jung-shin**_

* * *

**Gary:**

_Crazy, alone – I was foolish, it was only you_

_If loving you was wrong_

_Then no, no, this really isn't it_

_Dudu Durudu, love again_

**Ash:**

_Every day, every day – dubab dubab – I walk_

_I walk the streets we used to walk together_

_Once again, back again_

**All:**

_Ge ringer, ringer, ringer ring_

**Ash:**

_Day by day, Monday Tuesday, better day_

_I try to comfort myself, saying that I will smile again_

_But to me, it's only you_

On cue with the chorus, the light technicians on the side turn up the brightness off the lights to accompany the change in pace of the song.

May has ordered it specifically and planned it out herself to make sure everything was timed right. As she says "timing is everything in this business", over and over again to them when they rehearsed on those mornings when Ash couldn't wake up on or the nights when they return home with her waving goodbye.

Timing really was everything, because each pause in the song, each breath they took, was planned by her. And in the end, they couldn't have asked for a better song.

**Gary:**

_Goodbye darling, hey you, oh my darling, hey you_

_I love you to death – please come back to me_

_Because I love you, because only you know that_

_One more time, love forever_

**All:**

_Duruduru durudu_

**Gary:**

_Blah, blah_

**All:**

_Duruduru durudu_

**Gary:**

_No, no_

_Once again, back again_

_Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful one day_

**All:**

_Duruduru durudu_

**Gary:**

_Blah, blah_

**All:**

_Duruduru durudu_

**Gary:**

_No, no_

_Don't leave me, the person who loves you_

The spotlights dimmed down back to its original contrast and the melody calms down the slightest bit. Gary takes a break of playing the guitar and let Ash take over.

May instinctively bobs her head to the beating of Jimmy's drums and tries her best to make out the pluck of Paul's bass.

The guitars were the easiest to follow, the drums were the easiest to pick out, and the bass was the easiest to be forgotten.

At one time, May thought basses were inadequate – that they couldn't have made a difference because you could barely hear it. But after what she learnt from Paul, a bass was the instrument that pulled a song together. No matter how insignificant it may seem, it was needed.

It was needed…

Perhaps that was why she now considers that instrument one of her favourites. It was overlooked, outshined by the charisma of the guitar and it lies in the dust, unnoticed. Basses kind of reminded her of Paul. And he would never let her forget that.

May, however, does not dig too deep into her past memories and tries to concentrate on the show.

She had this song playing in her head for days and in her ears as well. The official recording of their song has been finalised and would be on iBeats right around – she checks her PokétchLite watch – now._  
_

**Gary:**

_Alone like a fool, like a mindless fool_

_I loved and loved you, but I guess you got tired of me_

_You speak like you want leave, telling me to go, and go_

_Dudu durudu, love again_

**Ash:**

_Again today, I – dubab dubab – sing_

_I sing the song we used to listen to together_

_Once again, back again_

May makes a small laugh and swears that the squealing got louder when Ash started singing. Despite not being in the centre it was obvious to her who was the favourite member in the group. She couldn't blame them though, Ash _was_ naturally loveable.

**All:**

_Ge ringer, ringer, ringer ring_

**Ash:**

_When the night passes, Monday Tuesday, better day_

_I promise myself that I will forget_

_But to me, it's only you_

**Gary:**

_Goodbye darling, hey you, oh my darling, hey you_

_I love you to death – please come back to me_

_Because I love you, because only you know that_

_One more time, love forever_

**All:**

_Duruduru durudu_

**Gary:**

_Blah, blah_

**All:**

_Duruduru durudu_

**Gary:**

_No, no_

_Once again, back again_

_Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful one day_

**All:**

_Duruduru durudu_

**Gary:**

_Blah, blah_

**All:**

_Duruduru durudu_

**Gary:**

_No, no_

_Don't leave me, the person who loves you_

With the change of pace in song, Gary's voice seemed to become huskier. The growl in the back of his throat as he sang the next lyrics really had the crowd going wild.

May had to hand it to him, he was a great actor. No lessons were in the making of Gary's alternative ego.

_G-g-goodbye darling uh_

_Oh, oh, oh my darling yeah_

_Yeah, yeah, yeah I ready now_

**Gary and Ash:**

_I'm telling you that it hurts; I'm telling you that I can't_

**All:**

_Say oh-e-oh, oh-e-oh_

**Gary and Ash:**

_Say no, no, no, no, no, no_

_Tell me why, hey you_

**Gary:**

_Goodbye darling, hey you, oh my darling, hey you_

_My love wants you, my heart wants only you_

_The happy days, the days I long for_

_I want to go back – love together_

**All:**

_Duruduru durudu_

**Gary:**

_Blah, blah_

**All:**

_Duruduru durudu_

**Gary:**

_No, no_

_Once again, back again_

_Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful one day_

**All:**

_Duruduru durudu_

**Gary:**

_Blah, blah_

**All:**

_Duruduru durudu_

**Gary:**

_No, no_

_Don't leave me, the person who loves you_

* * *

"I don't get it," Dawn says (now back to normal) as she makes one final check on her makeup in the brightly lit vanity, glancing every few moments at the television on the ceiling. "The bassist and drummer didn't even have any singing parts."

Misty spared a look at her before returning her bored stare back up at the screen. CN Blue's performance was over and the camera switched back to Mariam and the hosts, talking vigorously about their own debut song coming up next; the one that would be closing the show. She wasn't really listening though; she just wanted something to blank out on.

The heels Misty was wearing were killing her, so she kicked them off, promising to put them on later. Why she couldn't have worn something more comfortable was beyond the intuition of the costume stylists. It was something Misty couldn't comprehend. She wasn't going to whine though. It was such a small and tedious thing to throw a tantrum on. She wasn't going to complain.

"Maybe M&M is saving their killer chords for when we least expect it," Marina suggests with a playful squint of her eyes and purse of her lips. She pushes her hair back only to let the cowlick of her fringe to fall back on her face. It had been freshly crimped. "They're probably hiding the heavy artillery for when things get serious."

Misty gets up from the couch and tosses the remote behind her, but not before tuning the TV off. "They're backup vocalists, what do you expect?" she says placidly.

Misty had too much experience to be bothered to explain how everything in this business works to them. Sure, the other girls knew a lot about from whatever gave them the motivation to do this, but she had been living like this her whole life, so it was sort of a pain to point things out to the clueless. Misty hopes she didn't sound too harsh with Marina though, she didn't mean to appear irritated. Putting on her shoes in silence, Misty decides not to say anything further.

Leaf – sitting in a brooding silence of her own – remains ever quiet as she takes one last mint from her bag and pops it in her mouth. She takes a sip of bottled water and the tingly sensation on her tongue intensifies to a degree that it almost felt like her throat was burning. It felt nice.

Leaf had to swallow it not a moment later when a stagehand enters their room and tells them to take their places. Each time she inhaled was now like a breath of fresh springtime air.

"I think they're just holding back…" Dawn quietly whispers to herself as she and the others trail behind their leader. She gives way to a stumbling sound technician in a tangle of cables without even a second glance.

Dawn wasn't just thinking that CN Blue weren't giving it their all. Dawn was thinking that M&M had possibly a sure-fire way to win this competition that she wasn't even putting out their best songs first. She wonders what could've been better than _that_ performance. Maybe Marina was right. Maybe they were saving the really good stuff for later. Dawn couldn't tell is she felt insulted or intimidated by that. Oh no, she was hyperventilating again, the meds were wearing off, she might not even be able to-

"Relax, Dee Dee" Drew says to her, his finger still pressed at the spot between her eyebrows where he had just flicked her. He was trying (although very weakly) not to laugh when she rubs her forehead and swats his hand like it was a Venomoth, but a small chuckle manages to break through his lips.

"I do _not _want to know where you learnt that name," Dawn grumbles, fixing up her fringe to make sure it covers up the reddening bruise. She uses the distorted reflective metal of a nearby storage cart for guidance.

Dawn thought she buried that name into the ground and made sure it died there, but apparently Drew had one way or another found out. Well, he _did_ have Solidad at his disposal so that was no surprise. Still, it bothered her.

"Are my girls ready to shine?" he says with a growing smirk, silently praising himself for getting Dawn out of her panic attack before it broke out. Misty and Marina return his enthusiasm with a series of agreeing cheers and responses at the same level (Dawn though was still grumbling).

To show he approved of their reactions, Drew pulled out his right hand that was concealed behind him to reveal four beautifully grown red roses. Each was long-stemmed and a healthy shade of green. No thorns protruded from its stalk. The petals had the glossiness of silk and the aroma was a sweet saccharine scent that made all girls' feel like jelly.

SISTAR couldn't tell whether to sigh to contentment, or predictability. Roses were like Drew's calling card. Romantic, they had called the gesture first when they met him, but now it was more or less an unbreakable habit. Not a day goes by that he wouldn't hand them a rose in the mornings when he woke them up, or on those special days like today as a good luck charm of sorts. And to make him appear even _more_ mysterious, he never told any of them when or why he started to give them out. Now they all think roses were apart of him.

"For my four Beauties," Drew says, presenting the one flora to the each of the girls with a slight bow. They all were slowly about to accept them, but their host pulled them back to hover over his left shoulder and adds, "_After_ the show."

Dawn and Marina openly pout with added groans while Misty and Leaf smile, concealing a hint of a laugh. They figured he'd do this, like it was some reward if their debut performance was good enough for his standards. They playfully shoo off the gesture as they take their positions on stage before the commercials were done.

Drew grinned to himself, setting the roses aside to pick up his mike and cue cards once again. He knows that the girls will do great. And he knows they know that too, which is why – roses or not – he was going be proud of them.

"How sweet," he hears from behind. Her voice trickled with hostility and sarcasm.

Drew hid a scowl before turning to face M&M. Her smirk was as devious as ever.

He knows extensively to never hit a girl (it's one of his rules) for any reason. No matter how whiney, bratty, or mean they may be, he would always find a way to sort things out as peacefully as he could. He was a gentleman like that. He thought any guy that would do something like that shouldn't even be considered a guy. But _she _was a different story.

No he would not hit M&M even if some corporate television show paid him to do it (more or less). He would, however, throw all the smooth compliments, flattering once-overs, and anything else that made every girl he had ever met fall at his feet out the window and go all out on her on an even level. He would treat her like any other over-confident, haughty idol: he'd treat her fairly.

"I didn't think you would go for your group members, and all at the same time no less." She gives him a questionable look from the flicks of his hair down to the partially undone laces of his shoes. "It's a little unprofessional if you ask me." She raises a brow at the quartet of roses on top of a set of amplifiers. Her lips grew.

"I could say the same to you," Drew counteracts with a smirk of his own. It was a very Drew-like smirk that made ice melt, flowers bloom, and M&M to feel queasy in the stomach. He knew haow much it pissed her off. It causes her own lips falter into a pitiful pressed line. "Congrats on making the deadline by the way, where did you find your last member again?"

M&M growls under her breath. She knew he was going to use that card on her sooner or later. She was hoping for later, but with Drew it was unpredictable when he would use her failures to spite her. He wouldn't even be saying it if it weren't for that traitor. If they didn't abandon her and the group, then _Drew_ would be the one growling. That feeling of it almost happening made M&M even madder. It was always almost but never exactly.

She huffs and brushes past Drew, but he had already decided to move back on the side portion of the stage to where they were supposed to be, completely subduing her thunder to nothing but a rumble in the clouds. M&M huffs again.

Drew always had a way to make her feel small. His perfectly crafted one-liners, his more or less cool head, and the way he looks at her like a stranger. It sickened her. She wasn't going to let him have his way anymore. This competition will prove that.

M&M continues to follow him but couldn't help but glance back at the roses one last time with a frown. The dead flowers on the fourteenth don't come to mind, but something else did…

That queasy feeling came back.

* * *

The difference between girl groups and guy groups is that the girls are more often drooled after their significantly greater male fan base. It's not that hard a reason to see why.

Female idols are more alluring to both sexes in completely different ways. Sometimes its admiration, sometimes lust, but it was definite that for either gender groups, it was the individual personas of each member that made up the appeal of the group.

For Leaf, it was obvious. She was the cool level-headed leader. She was the one with the strong presence and powerful eyes. One didn't need to be loud to be heard. Leaf has proven that.

Dawn was the cutesy fashion forward member. As the youngest and most energetic of the group, Dawn was the weight that levelled with Leaf's serious nature. They were a perfect match.

Triple threat Misty – or quadruple threat if you counted her training skills – was the cool, down-to-earth one. Even though she had been living and breathing fame and fortune, not once has she ever flaunted it.

Last but not least is the beauty of the group, Marina. Her natural looks could not be denied even by the most jealous of fans. If anything, they admired her for being beautiful both on the inside and out. She became an instant star.

All of them combined on that stage for the first time made their existence unmistakable. It was hard to tell if their opening applause was louder than CN Blue's, but they weren't going to fuss over that. They were concentrating on their song all with one definitive thought in their minds: they would be remembered.

* * *

_**Song: Come Closer**_

_**Artist: SISTAR (**__**씨스타**__**)**_

_**Album: Alone – The First Mini Album**_

_**Roles: Leaf/Bora, Dawn/Hyorin, Misty/Dasom, Marina/Soyou**_

* * *

**All:**

_SISTAR_

_So come closer, closer, closer_

**Dawn:**

_Why don't you come closer, don't worry just come closer_

There was that twinkle in Dawn's eyes as she slowly winks to the camera with a bright pearly white smile.

In one swift and sultry motion, the four girls lift up their index fingers and pulled the entranced crowd to move into them. Unknowingly, a few lean forwards.

**All:**

_So come closer, closer, closer_

**Dawn:**

_We don't know where this road ends_

_We don't know when that will be_

**Marina:**

_But I'm not going to give it up_

_People say SISTAR turn it up_

**Dawn:**

_Wherever my feet touch, I will go_

_Though I don't know where that is_

**Marina:**

_So let's get down, down sing along with us_

**Dawn:**

_We will come to you, so you can hear our voices up close, come closer_

_We will come to you~_

**All:**

_So come closer, closer, closer_

**Dawn:**

_Yeah~_

* * *

The crowd cheered like there had just been a massacre of the upmost proportions, which meant that SISTAR was really beginning to become … (May couldn't bear to even _think _it) _popular_…

But that wasn't the biggest surprise of the night.

She should have expected this from Drew. No. She should have _known_ it was coming to her, but with all the snarky counterarguments and mental cursing, it didn't occur to May that Drew was smart enough to add an _intro song_ as the opening to their _actual_ debut song. The realisation made her blood boil.

She turns to Drew and notes that annoying smirk as he gazes proudly at his group. Oh, how she wished it was end of the show so that the voting could be done and over with, but sadly to say, May didn't have a genie to count on.

Debating with wether to clobber him right then and there or staying in her fuming silence was a not so hard decision to make logically (although agonisingly difficult personally). May was not going to give Drew the satisfaction of sympathetic fans by clawing his face in (no matter how much she wanted to). So to make her feel a little better, she thinks to herself what the producers of Superstar S will think when they find out he didn't follow the mission as instructed.

The possibility of Drew getting disqualified from the show made May calm enough to watch his group's actual performance. She turns back to the stage wearing a small grin, although she was trying her best not to scowl when she sees the quartet of girls positioned in their arranged stances.

Leaf, taking her place as leader, stands in the middle, her palms in Marina's and Dawn's; each were connected to one other as they waved their hands in a series of motions. They were now surrounded by a shadow of backup dancers.

They separate once the music breaks into a dramatic beat of an electro-pop instrumental.

* * *

_**Song: Don't Forget Me**_

_**Artist: Girl's Day**_

_**Album: Girl's Day Party #5**_

_**Roles: Leaf/Hye-ri, Dawn/Minah, Misty/Yura, Marina/Sojin**_

* * *

**Leaf:**

_Oh my baby_

The electric music blasted through the speakers as Leaf's voice resounded in a repeated fashion.

Flurries of flashing multi-coloured spotlights erratically shift through the stage, complementing the melody. Gracefully and carefully (as choreographed) the others made way for Dawn.

**Dawn:**

_When I saw you I hoped that you would hold my hand_

_When I saw your lips, my heart pounded_

**Marina:**

_My diary was filled with stories of you every day_

_When doodling with my friends, I wrote your name_

**Leaf:**

_Name, name_

**Dawn:**

_I don't want to forget that feeling_

_I don't want to forget your eyes_

**Marina:**

_When the night comes I think of you_

_The memories we had were always in my heart_

**All:**

_(I'll remember you)_

The quartet gets into their places for the chorus. After countless hours of lessons and practice, this dance – their debut dance – was programed into their minds and stored forever. Moving together was a sensation that made them feel like they were all one; their bodies and voices blended in perfect harmony.

The way they were like this, made them really feel like they were sisters.

**All:**

_Don't forget me, you are my baby_

_You are mine, you are mine, you are my baby_

_Come to me and hug me, you are my baby_

_You are mine, you are mine, you are my baby_

The rap of the song was what gave it its spark. Like the lemon zest on razz berry sorbet. It was the little touch that made all the difference. It kept the song from being to mainstream and a little more edgy.

That may have been the reason why Misty was given that part, but she still would've rather Leaf did it considering that was her role. Why Drew gave it to Misty was beyond her.

**Misty:**

_You said you'd forget me as time goes on_

_But I am still remembering you now_

She was acting cutesy, and she hated it. If it was Leaf then maybe, _just maybe_, it wouldn't feel so wrong. It wasn't that Misty couldn't do cute (she can pull it off without a hitch), it was just that she … _preferred_, to be the "cool down-to-earth" character she was known for (Dawn was better at it anyways).

**Misty:**

_You looked so good in your uniform_

_Some part of you always looked like an adult_

**Leaf:**

_That's why I liked you in school_

_It was my secret that I couldn't tell anyone else_

_Secret, secret_

**Dawn:**

_I don't want to forget that feeling_

_I don't want to forget your eyes_

**Marina:**

_When the night comes I think of you_

_The memories we had were always in my heart_

**All:**

_(I'll remember you)_

**All:**

_Don't forget me, you are my baby_

_You are mine, you are mine, you are my baby_

_Come to me and hug me, you are my baby_

_You are mine, you are mine, you are my baby_

The girls formed a single file line and the softest part of the song began to play.

**Dawn:**

_Ooo~ I miss you _

**Marina:**

_(I miss you)_

**Dawn:**

_I need you _

**Marina:**

_(I need you)_

**Dawn:**

_I want you _

**Marina:**

_(I want you)_

**Dawn:**

_Ooo~ I miss you _

**Marina:**

_(I miss you)_

**Dawn:**

_I need you _

**Marina:**

_(I need you)_

**Dawn:**

_I want you _

**Marina:**

_(I want you)_

**Dawn:**

_I was so shy back then_

_I couldn't tell you how I felt_

**Marina:**

_But now I want you too_

_Ooo~ Whoa_

**Dawn:**

_Ooo~ Whoa~_

**Leaf:**

_You, you_

While Dawn continues to belt out her voice, she let her recorded vocals take over for her for the moment. She moved forwards while the other members danced behind her. She felt so light. She felt like her voice was lifting her up, like she was walking on air, like she was finally being seen.

May couldn't help but stare at the steel blue-haired girl with half-closed eyes. Her vocal range was impressive… Not that she would ever admit it. Dawn was still a rookie and needed to work on her control. But her voice … something about it sparked something in May; something she couldn't put her finger on.

**Dawn:**

_I don't want to forget that feeling_

_I don't want to forget your eyes_

**Marina:**

_When the night comes I think of you_

_The memories we had were always in my heart_

**All:**

_(I'll remember you)_

**All:**

_Don't forget me, you are my baby_

_You are mine, you are mine, you are my baby_

_Come to me and hug me, you are my baby_

_You are mine, you are mine, you are my baby_

* * *

The one thing that May and Drew can agree on (although not verbally) was that the confetti outburst at the end of their debut performances was the moment they actually felt they won something.

The small pieces of luminescent paper glitters in an array of gold and silver when the spotlights hits them just right as they fall from the sky. May puts a hand out to catch it like the first snow of winter. She figures this is what it would feel like as she has never really seen snow fall before. Something warm tingles in her chest and she can't help but force a smile.

It wasn't that the confetti wasn't for her – it was for all the debut singers tonight – but she couldn't help but face the fact that it was meant for SISTAR, the girl group of four who stood centre stage with seven thousand two hundred and sixteen points above their heads (only ten more points that CN Blue). This was both metaphorically and physically as the screen behind them flashed in those exact numbers while the girls held their own little celebratory party with their host in the middle of them. Each one of them held a pristine looking rose in their hands.

She knows she shouldn't smile to the point where her jaw was cramping up, but the way Drew was sneaking his superior-like glance her way made May's mouth twinge in pain.

She gradually calms down when Ash's soothing head pats relieve her of most of her irritation. May gives him a thankful but scolding look. She has told him countless times not to do such affectionate things in front of a live audience (and worse a camera) as just the little bit of interaction between one singer and another made fans go crazy.

May wasn't talking about a fight with random person that posted a MyTube comment about who looked better with whom. She meant fan stalking to the point that they know where you live, what you're doing, and who you're with. People like that were scary. May hasn't gotten any people like that (in a while), and she hopes she never will. But it's a tough thing to hope.

Once the show was at its end, all the rookie groups and solo artists head back to their dressing rooms, ready to go home, rest, and then get up in the morning to do the same song over and over again on a variety of music programs.

SISTAR and CN Blue however will not be joining them because of their commitment to Superstar S. This one debut performance will be their only one until said otherwise, which meant that it had better count.

As May leads her boys down and straight out to their awaiting van, she pulls out her iDex and expertly dodges and barricades in her way. Most of the people though made way for her as she struts down the hall. It was like without even trying, May has made a split in the centre of a wave of wannabe idols.

She ignores the fan girl/boy whispers about herself, as well as the two hundred and sixteen missed calls/text alerts that were still continuing to increase and opens up the Superstar UR app; she immediately taps for the polls icon.

Despite losing to Drew only moments ago, May couldn't help but smile.

* * *

_**This came out way longer than expected. I wanted to try a different style of writing (at least I hope it's different) so this is what I eventually came up with. Tell me what you think and if you do like it then I'll continue writing like this, if not, I'll try to revert back, either way I'm going to have to do some rewriting. **_

_**So wow, February and I'm still not at school … feels lazy, but in a – no, no it's just lazy … Apparently I have a massive load of homework when I get back and it's only been two days into the term. Anyways for those of you who are/going to be interested in K-Pop, listen to Girls Generation I Got a Boy album, it's amazing. Or if you want to hear the real SISTAR, their sub-unit SISTAR19 just released a new single, so check it out!**_

_**Each review for this chap is like a present under my virtual Christmas tree that I still have yet to take down :)**_

* * *

_**Music Links:**_

_**CN Blue - watch?v=F4-mzLBZBk4 **_

_**SISTAR Intro - watch?v=eesIStYExLw **_

_**SISTAR - watch?v=dchikNtRRT0**_

* * *

**XOXO AsianBunny**


	4. That Feeling

_**Just a little chapter to post before exams since I haven't been on in . . . forever! I miss writing. I really do. Maybe after exams I can get to writing and drawing anime again (yeah I'm a dork like that). This story may have been forgotten somewhere along the line, but I just felt like venting some of my stress 'cause studying for tests I know I'm going to fail does a lot to your system XP**_

_**Anyways, please read on :)**_

* * *

_**Reviews:**_

_**CierraLuvsPokemon4Eva: Yeah, I tend to write too much, which is apparently really bad in high school XP I'm keeping the some pretty brief though. It just depends what's happening in certain chapters. Aww that's such a sweet thing to say ^~^ And sozzies for not updating in so long. School and all that crap. And no it's not creepy at all XP Just adorable. **_

_**cherrylovesshipping: Oh, thank you so much, even though I haven't updated in forever XP And you're right, that would be too cliché. Keep guessing and find out ;)**_

_**CLP4E: Hey again XP Thanks for giving me another review. Hope this reaches some standards even though this chapter is a little boring XP**_

* * *

_**Let's face it. Everyone's cover is judged. A pretty cover only draws them in. To make them stay there has to be something of more value that they can give them. At that thing of value is a personality unlike any other. – Me**_

* * *

**Chapter Four: That Feeling**

* * *

"You seem on edge."

"I am _not_ on edge," May snips a little too quickly, trying to keep her chi centred.

Grace stifles a snort, her hands perfectly placed on her knees as her fingers pinched to a circle. "Your aura's a little red," she notes, taking a side-glance. Her lips quirk into a little grin that May could _feel _despite the fact her eyes was closed. She tries not to let it mess up her balance.

"Great," May says with but a hint of a breathy sigh. _In and out._ "It will match my outfit."

Grace smiles, taking in account that she had the pleasure of seeing May at her most exposed: at seven in the mornings from Tuesdays to Fridays. At this particular time in the day, May has undoubtedly become more open with her feelings. And at this particular _lesson_ she appeared touchier than any other session Grace has prodded at her thoughts. Perhaps it was the abrupt bursting in on her former client a little earlier than the scheduled time, but May seemed a little irritated.

One didn't need to be a yoga instructor to see that May had something on her mind. The fact that she was actually concentrating on the session and not gossiping with Grace was proof enough of that.

In truth though, May just wanted someone to handle her before getting to work. Maybe then she wouldn't appear too annoyed when she met up with Drew for the second shooting of the show. That smirk he wore on that stage was still flashing in a reoccurring memory May wishes was just a bad nightmare. That faint twitch of his lip, that triumphant look in his eyes, that goddamned hair flick, that—just _everything_ was a horrible twisted dream!

Grace clicks her tongue at the rare sight. May was getting mad. She could tell by the indistinct crease of her brows, the way her pinched fingers were now piercing the flesh of her thumbs, and how Medicham cringed when her aura tripled in size. Maybe it was just the soothing music that was floating through the room, but Grace was somehow pleased.

"It means you're angry," Grace reminds, although to May's dislike. "Come on, I told you auras' are like mood rings, only way cooler." She made the motion to lift up her arms to present her own spring green glow; the colour of calmness. May doesn't acknowledge whatever light Grace had and attempts to focus on her chakra points. Grace's laughing and the honking cars below do little to help aid her goal.

The city is no longer hushed out in the depths of the night and is rather lively as workers and students bristle down below the streets. It was a rather typical scene, May supposed. She could only hear the hustle and bustle (the windows were rather thin), though she was tempted to break the darkness with the breech of afternoon light to keep her mind on something other than Grace's voice echoing in her ears. Her mind was not at ease, and admitting that would only just make things worse.

_In and out._ "What could I possibly be angry about?"

"That SISTAR won Sinnoh M Wave's debut stage."

Grace's upfront attitude were one of the many things May admired about her (that, and she's the best instructor this side of the region). Not once has she honeyed any words, sugar-coated any compliments, and definitely did not hide her rather . . . interesting, laugh. On any other day, May and her would simply come and meditate without a care in the world, but today it seemed as if the world for once was not revolving around May. And the thought—the utter mention—that _SISTAR_ was taking her spotlight was excruciatingly annoying.

May's brow slightly—only _slightly_—twitches. "I don't know what people are thinking these days, but I would have voted for the third performance. What was their name again?"

"We can get off topic about your dating life, that's understandable"—Grace chuckles at May's attempt to look unaffected—"but you won't shut up about anything to do with music."

May's red aura has become significantly darker by the mere reference to her non-existent love life. For just a brief moment, she remembers the countless times Grace brought up the topic. All the gushy smiles, the distant looking eyes, the several noted shrines dedicated to May by some of Grace's other clients scatter before her, and for that moment, May almost forgets what she was angry about.

"So come on, let it all out."

But Grace and her persistent attitude will never let her leave this meditation chamber if she kept quiet. "I already have a therapist." It still didn't mean she couldn't try though.

It suddenly occurred to May that she had not visited her therapist since Harley and her went together at the beginning of their professional relationship (they hit a few bumps personality wise). It was an interesting session, she had to say, and highly effective. In the end they left with a pretty set goal and a questionable persim berry each in hand. Why she even had a therapist in the first place was unknown to her as the higher ups at SM were rather cryptic in their work. To relive stress for idols, May guesses.

"Well Roxanne's not here now is she?" Grace points out with all but the best form of irony in her words.

_In and out. _

She will not give in. May will _not_ give in to Grace's incessant, witty comebacks. _She _was the one after all who told her not to let people get to her. How hypocritical was that? Of all the times for her to go back on her advice, _this _was the moment she chose? It was agreeably inconvenient.

_In and out. _

Grace knew, didn't she? She knew that May actually took her advice and using it against her. This was her plan from the beginning wasn't it?! Oh, that was brilliant. Grace was smarter than May gave her credit for. She thought Grace was voodoo, hippie smart, but apparently she was physiological, shrink smart too . . .

And here May was paying for two therapists when apparently she already had one wrapped up for the price of the two. Well, doesn't this make her day feel better?

_In and—_"It's all about the skimpy outfits isn't it?"

"There we go."

"Just because they put on _way _too short outfits and some make up—that did _not_ do them justice by the way—they think they're that good?" May's hands were just all over the place, as if it was some sort of ritual to make her understand. She tries to make sense of it all, but with each time she came even close to a conclusion, something stops her from voicing it out.

May analysed SISTAR's style in the time she entered Grace's room unannounced and kicked her last client out. "Sexy sweet" as Mariam put it at one point during the broadcast the day before. That sort of genre for a group had been so overused lately that May had stopped trying to remember who was in what girl group or who left and who was added. So she didn't understand why SISTAR—a completely rookie group—caught enough attention to win. Their style was played out, right? That hot, yet somehow cutesy, act worked for them to a point that made them look . . . original . . .

That or it was all about the fanservice. Pfft, guys these days . . .

Promptly, May straightened up.

"What about the things _you _wear?" Grace pokes, the sensation of her perked brow practically jabbing at May's pride.

"I have class." With a defeated sigh she adds, "And besides that's the style here."

"So basically your argument to SISTAR is invalid."

"I thought you were on my side."

"I'm in the air, it's all neutral."

It takes a moment to recall that Grace and she were indeed floating in mid-air. They hover about a metre above the expensive tatami matting of the room and the yoga mat May swears has only ever been rolled and unrolled, but never used in any other way. May almost thinks that it was their own doing—that they had some sort of mystical magical power—but remembers that Grace's Medicham was doing all the work.

"You and your flower power act." May breathes an exasperated exhale, her will to argue with Grace growing thinner by the minute. Yoga can do things like that to a person.

"It's all a part of the job," Grace says with a careless shrug. "You're not my only client you know."

May doesn't know how many times she had sighed that day, but it had to be over the average limit, if there was even a limit in the first place. She sighs . . . again. "I know, I know."

Grace offers a sympathetic smile and felt that it was enough of the teasing. There was definitely a limit for _that_. To prove this she mentally asks Medicham to lower then down to the floor. They both land on the matting with a soft groan of expensive Japanese straw.

May—with her eyes still closed looking a little dejected—doesn't notice this as she wallows in . . . whatever May wallowed in, because she certainly did _not_ wallow in her own self-pity, that'd be just pathetic.

"So come on," Grace pries. "What's really bothering you? Are you afraid of losing the competition?"

May makes a sort of half scoff/half laugh noise. "Oh, no, I already know I'm going to win."

"Wow so modest."

"It's just . . ."

For the first time that session, May had the energy to open her eyes. They felt slightly strained. She hadn't realised how hard she had been trying to keep them shut until her vision had to readjust to the lighting. Everything seems so bright compared to the darkness she had confined herself to. Small wisps of light dotted her sight, yet she still stared at the floor, confused and answerless. "They were better than I expected."

Grace raises a brow. "Feeling threatened there are we?"

"More like a little insulted," May corrects, looking up at her with a crooked frown. She couldn't believe Grace would even suggest such a thing. Threatened—her? That was theoretically, hypothetically and relatively impossible.

"That they're good?" Grace asks, trying to find the right perspective to look at this situation from. It was hard doing that with May sometimes.

"That my boys aren't getting enough attention," May specifies with another heavy breath. She rubs her tense eyes with the bottom of her right hand as if she could wipe away all the doubts and worries about her group rather than their rivals. She was tired pulling that all-nighter yesterday—or was it today?—going over what she could've done better to win that debut stage. But everything was planned perfectly. The song was amazing, the costumes looked hot, and—and . . . she just didn't know where it had gone all wrong.

Grace then . . . well, she didn't sniffle, but she didn't laugh either. Grace had a . . . special . . . way of announcing her amusement. It was the hybrid of the laughter of a tickled mad scientist with a smile of an animated talking cat. It was the thing that practically screamed out her name. "Oh they're getting attention."

May perks one of her perfectly shaped brows. "What do you mean?" she questions while watching Grace lean over to the window to get to her unkempt gym bag filled with Arceus knows what. May swears she heard something squish before hearing something crunch as she shuffled through it . . .

"CN Blue is now the number one boy band in the country," Grace says, pulling out her iDex as she got back into her comfortable cross-legged position. With a few taps and swipes, she handed the phone to May with a wide smile. "There's already a website dedicated to them and their fans."

May takes the iDex cautiously, as if it was used tissue rather than the latest design in Sinnoh technology. "And you know this how?" she inquires curiously, scrolling down the already loaded page. It was blindingly sparkly, and she could make out that the four cartoon characters on the sides were mini animated versions of her group instead of overweight cream blobs. _Boice,_ she reads aloud in her head. _That's the best fan club name they could use?_

Grace laughs self-satisfyingly with another one of her cat grins. "'Cause I'm their new number one fangirl."

This declaration of sorts somehow unsettles May to a degree she couldn't comprehend. It was like having the epiphany that parents actually did it to have their kids. You knew that they did, but it never came to mind until, being the old-fashioned geezers they were, decides to tell you about the birds and the bees deal. It was something one should not have the luxury of discovering upfront . . . just like this moment . . .

"Oh," May squeaks, sliding back Grace's phone, not as if it were hazardous. "That's disturbing."

Grace takes the phone back with an indignant mope. "What? They're cute and can sing." She tosses the iDex back into her bag with the perfect precision of an NBA player. "Did I mention they were cute _and_ can sing?"

May waves a flippant hand towards the pile of whatever was in Grace's bag that her phone disappeared in. "No I meant someone posted a video asking all of them to marry her."

Grace blinked thoughtlessly. "Oh." Composing her dignity once more she adds, "Well I'm still the _sane_ number one fangirl."

May outwardly laughs once. No more. No less. "There is no such thing as a 'sane' fangirl.'"

If there had been a time May _did_ meet a normal fangirl, the memory decided not to show itself now. Sure they were nice when they hold up handmade signs with her name plastered on it written in permanent marker, but when one stalks her in the streets to her home repeatedly, that was when she had to draw the line (there were too many to count). However fangirls weren't the main problem in May's fan base, it was the fan_boys_ that bothered her. But at least they weren't as threating as the girl populous when it came to boy bands . . . she hopes . . .

"Then that makes me a legend," Grace proclaims self-assuredly, getting up and posing like some sort of saviour of the weak.

May giggles as she goes the same thing. "Okay, Number One Fangirl, I'll get you some tickets to the next show." She picks up her yoga mat and rolled it up before slipping it under her arm. She grabs her gym bag next to Grace's while she was at it too. Instinctively, May takes out her own iDex to check her schedule. "Better yet, I'll get them to come here and take some lessons. Paul needs to learn to _relax_."

Grace smiles maliciously as she guides May out the sliding doors of her chamber. "Oh, I thought you would never ask," she purrs gliding open the entrance to the Zen garden waiting area (it was empty, so Grace was pretty sure May scared off her clients for the rest of the day). May waves a quick goodbye as she heads for the exit.

"But seriously,"

May halts, and for one moment thought she was once again victorious for avoiding one of Grace's interrogations like she usually did.

"What's really on your mind?" Grace asks in a tone more serious than any other time she had asked this question, which was probably never.

May thought she would have stopped sighing by the time the lesson was over, but apparently not. She wasn't late for anything at the moment, actually the session ended pretty early, but May still didn't feel right explaining things Grace had no knowledge about. She was the closest thing she had to a "friend" in Sinnoh, but even then, to May, that wasn't enough.

"Right now? Brock's booster salad."

* * *

One does not simply enter Starship Entertainment's building with the intention of immediately seeing one of their singers upon the automatic guarded glass doors. There are those rare chances where some are able to catch a glimpse of them retreating behind a corner only to somehow disappear out of thin air, but those chances were as high as last month's million dollar lottery (no one won).

It was easy to enter the estate, sure—it was as open as the public library—but sometimes those really diehard fans can't, or just don't, want to leave. And that was why Marina and Leaf remained in the confinements of their van, impatiently waiting for an opening to enter without making such a fuss.

Some idle by the café, attempting to hide up their intentions behind an overpriced cup of coffee too small to be considered a drink but rather several drops of liquid. Others wandered around the gift shop, scouring the generously spaced shelves for limited edition—or better yet signed— merchandise. All were waiting for someone—_anyone_—from Starship to appear.

Leaf twirls her tin of mints in her hand as she stares out the window, thankful that they were tinted faintly black on the outside. The city scenery had flown past since their apartment and now it came to a standstill. A permanent one is felt like. She was on her sixth tablet and every time a fan leaves, _somehow,_ another one almost miraculously enters.

She sucks on the candy in an effortless attempt to pass the time. It had been at least an hour and a half since they arrived and now it just seems silly to wait futilely by inside the car because of a few shoppers.

When Leaf reaches for the handle in a moment of impulse, she begrudgingly pulls back and told herself to bear it a little longer. Leaf crushes the mint when yet another girl enters. She breathes a cool sigh.

It wasn't that she was afraid of them mauling her or whatever. She couldn't care less about getting horded. She and Marina are just starting out, so they wouldn't be that popular among the public just yet.

Drew on the other hand . . . well, let's just say fangirls (and occasional fanboys) spontaneously appear whenever their host was around. And trust them; it was not a pretty sight when there weren't any security personal around.

"I understand why _you_ have to stay here," Marina points out for the umpteenth time since they were jailed in the vehicle. "But why can't Leaf and I just head in?"

Drew—not looking up from his phone—says instead of with, 'Because your my personal protective shield,' decided to smartly go with, "Because I would feel disheartened 'Rina."

With his hand over his heart and a glace that even puppies would be envious of, Marina cracked under the infamous Drew pout. "Don't look at me like that; you're making me feel guilty."

There was obviously no logical reason why Marina should feel guilty, let alone towards Drew, but for the countless times the girls had seen this look—as well as most of the Sinnoh population due to the highly successful, award winning television drama he was featured in as of last year—none of them thought that it was suitable for him to use it against them like that.

**[Leaf: **_**You just don't want to get mauled.**_**]**

**[Drew: **_**That's true too.**_**]**

Leaf cringes and slips her phone back into her pocket, not caring whether it was going to vibrate again or not to signal Drew's insincere apology.

"You two aren't fighting are you?" Marina ponders, switching her attention from both at the pair and the front entrance of the studio (still not clear). "Oh, I should have listened to Misty when she said to go earlier. Now she's going to give us double team on practice while Dawn just watches."

Marina Crystal was not the type of person who stood solely on one topic at a time. She wouldn't be classified as airheaded or a blonde in disguise, she just got bored very easily and was far more entertained when people were confused rather than if they were serious. When things came down to it though she had more concentration than a Tauros faced with a red flag, but at other times she preferred to make light of everything else. So it was to be expected if she jumped from one subject from the next.

But when she suggests to get over it and to just go inside, this focus was repeated for a consistent amount of time before Leaf finally caved and jutted her head out the door in agreement. Drew on the other hand was less tempted to relent to Marina's surprisingly decent persuasion skills.

Marina sighed, noting her host's set stance: legs and arms crossed looking like he hadn't a care in the world. She had this card up her sleeve that she could use though. It was actually the trump for all four girls in the group. But being connected with a well in doubt determined idol like Drew, it was hardly ever considered of using . . . At least, not until now.

"You know," Marina chides with a synthetic breathy voice. Her bottom lip protruded ever so slightly. "M&M is probably halfway done with the second mission already." The twitch of Drew's brow tickled the two girls so much that they could laugh . . . Well, maybe after one last chide.

"We may have won the first round, but M and her group look like they were determined to win the next mission—"

"Oh, ladies," Drew interrupts oh so dreamily with a flick of his fringe. "You should know peer pressure doesn't work on me. I'm the one who uses it best after all."

No, the girls _did not_ roll their eyes at this.

"But nevertheless, I think we've stayed out here long enough."

With a simple gesture with his hand, the driver was instructed to move in closer to the entrance. Why he couldn't do this an hour ago the two didn't know. But they knew not to question Drew and his work, because Drew was Drew, and there was no questioning him on anything.

Leaf and Marina _were not_ met with a cool, calm, and collected—but obviously pissed—Misty when they entered one of the wooden boarded rehearsal rooms. Mm-mm, no they weren't.

They were not also met with a rarely chattering Dawn leaning on the stereo with a pencil in one hand and what appeared to be a rolled up script in the other.

Mm-mm . . . no they weren't . . .

"I _could _say you were late," Misty says dryly with two outfaced palms at her sides. Her elbows fitted in with her perfect swimmers body curves as she tries not to look irritated by staring off at the view of the city from the corner other eyes. "But that would be just teasing."

"You're late," Dawn immediately says after, with less enthusiasm in her voice than usual. She still stares at the pieces of paper as she spins the yellow 2B penicil with little effort. The faint sound of music echoes through the room, and Dawn made no attempt to bring it to the speakers instead of her pink and blue stripped headset. Only when Misty turned off her iPod manually did Dawn finally enter into the conversation wholeheartedly.

"You're late," she says again, noting the annoyed expressions of both tardy girls. "Fantina is going to go agro at you guys for missing the lesson."

Marina waves a dismissive hand as she pulls out her own script from her bag, which was perfectly highlighted with a bright aqua blue marker. "I take facial expression lessons with or without her anyways. I got this commercial down pact."

"It's more like miming lessons if you really think about it," Dawn says as she pretends to be in an invisible box. Her concentrative eyes stayed forever engrossed on her script as she hovers around the room like a mystical nymph. "You know, over exaggerating everything without saying anything? This was practically made for Leaf."

Said girl folds her arms in place and noises a silent humph, whipping her head to one side in an indifferent manner. Dawn wasn't exactly wrong, but that didn't mean she had the right to point it out. But it wasn't like Leaf was going to yell at her or anything. Leaf never yelled.

"That doesn't excuse you from being late," interrupted Misty, folded arms, frown and furrowed forehead in all. "I mean, just because you guys are too wimpy to throw yourselves out to a pit of fans—"

"It was _Drew_," Marina corrects with an assertive nod from Leaf.

"—does not mean you can hide in the van like you usually do."

"Like _Drew_ usually does," Marina amends again with another supportive gesture from Leaf.

Misty rolls her eyes and uncrosses her arms. Dawn however felt inclined to take the other side of argument as—knowing their host—she couldn't really blame the two for hiding out so long. "You've gotta admit," Dawn says holding out her hand. "Drew really is a chicken when it comes to his fans."

Marina giggles, skimming over the particulars of her script. She does some sort of pirouette, like that of a professional ballerina, and just for a second, all the girls were reminded of the music boxes they had as a child. "He can make you love him, he can make you buy anything, but when it comes to girls other than us, it's all indirect hostile flirting and hair flicks."

"And they love him because of it," Dawn adds with a shrug and a sigh.

Misty struggles not to laugh, but decides to drop the pissed of teacher act and manages to chuckle. Just a little bit. "That's something I will never understand about fangirls."

"You say it like their some otherworldly animalistic species," Dawn says amusingly. Misty gives her tilted look, and Dawn realises what she had said may have been a little more on the dot than what she was really going for. "Yeah, you're right, they probably are."

A clap resounded around the room, causing all of them to instantly turn to Marina so flawlessly and so in sync that it could have been planned. "Well now that you're done yelling at us—"

"I wasn't yelling."

She ignored Misty. "—then let's get on with this commercial. I haven't done one of these in years. It brings back memories."

"Oh-ho-ho-ho," Misty sounds with a smirk growing at her lips. "Miss Golden Girl comes in late and is now the master of the class now isn't she?"

"You're sarcasm is just _hi_larious, y'know that Mist?"

"Yes. Yes I do."

Dawn giggles to herself, offside of one of Marina's and Misty's little theatrical moments. Being brought up constantly taking drama, dance and music lessons, she could see the practice the two have done since their younger days. She sometimes wishes she had the opportunity to do those things, but she guesses doing them now is better than never doing them at all.

The hint of jealousy dies down in her chest a little while after, and when she found Leaf rehearsing in a corner all by herself, Dawn put on her charming smile and forgot all about not getting what she could've had, but instead replaced them with a deep conviction for getting what she wanted now.

* * *

"Arrogant jerk."

"Egotistical bitch."

"You're one to talk."

"At least I know when to shut up."

They didn't know how it came to this point. They really didn't.

Harley and Solidad were sure that they arrived on good terms. Well, both idols didn't want to speak to each other at all, and that, to the managers, were amazing terms to meet on. So they were still a little puzzled as to how their two clients resulted in this immature, pointless banter.

"Short skirted slut."

This immature—

"Twofaced asshole."

Pointless—

"Attention seeking fake!"

"Attention seeking fake!"

Banter . . .

"Okay, I'm gay!" And Harley just had to say _that _to get their attention. Solidad palm faced herself very, _very_, slowly.

"Harley!" May screeched in horror at the fact _now_ was the time her manager decided to come out of the closet.

While Drew on the other hand scoffs and says under his breath, "No surprise there," earning a deathly daggered glare from May, to which he promptly ignored (as always).

Turning her gaze away she grits her teeth and closes her eyes in an attempt to erase all of reality, all of the noise, and again, all of her memories.

She wasn't usually like this around him. She had more control than this. But today, for some reason, the little voice in the back of her head told her to just snub it, and instead to go annoy Drew to the extent that she had to move several spacious metres away from him just to _breathe_.

May's fingers trailed over lips. As she touched the soft outline of her cupid's both, she tried to swallow the fact she said such foul words no less than a few seconds ago. She felt dirty. She felt tainted. But to compensate for that vulgar feeling was the fact that she said them all to Drew. So May was absolutely fine with that . . . She was totally fine with that.

"What has gotten into you two?" Solidad asked, ignoring Harley and his outburst (at least he got those two to shut up at least). "Just because the cameras and the eyes of the world aren't on you now doesn't exempt you two to act like children."

If May knew what it was like to feel motherly scolding, this would be the perfect moment. Did she feel good that it was coming from the manager of her rival? No. But she knew that Solidad wasn't like Drew at least. She just wondered why a noble woman like her ever wanted to have the likes of him as their client. May also wondered how someone could look so good in a black pinstriped pantsuit, 'cause she hasn't attained that outfit in her wardrobe collection just quite yet.

"You're right Solidad," Drew says, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "We just got off on the wrong foot today, that's all."

May bites her tongue, but begrudgingly says, "He's right." Oh _Arceus_ she wanted to puke. "We were just bickering in a moment of weakness. Sorry about that."

Solidad sighs, putting a hand on her aching forehead. "I simply don't understand how you two can act like such adults after fighting like that." Fighting the urge to groan, Solidad opened up her briefcase and handed the two the script for the next performance on Superstar S. She doesn't groan at least, however she does hum questioningly at Harley, who was squeezing himself in the corner mumbling about how he was lying just so he could get them to be quiet. He wasn't really gay (or so he says).

Breezily, May flicks through the pages, her eyes scanning over the majority of her lines before she reached the final page and smiles.

Sneaking a glance at Drew, she waits for him to reach up to where she was. Surely enough, she saw the reaction of his knuckles turning a ghostly shade of white, as well as the faint crease of his brow underneath his grass green head of his.

She could start up the fight again like how she did when they got to Solidad's office at Starship, but she decided that even Drew's manager deserved _some_ peace for putting up with such a . . . character, like him, so she laid the topic to rest for the time being.

"Well," May says rather cheerfully, shuffling the script on her lap like a news anchor on air. "I absolutely _love_ this week's script." She looks over at Drew again, this time catching his gaze, keeping it, and smiles a very devious smile. "Love, love, _love_ it."

May relishes in Drew's adamant silence, patting herself on the back at the fact even she can make him shut up when she needed to.

Now she knew what that uneasy feeling she felt earlier in the day was: anticipation. Anticipation to see Drew crumble like the stale bread he was. Sure his group won Sinnoh M Wave's stage, but that didn't mean he won the Superstar S mission.

In fact he lost . . . by _a lot_. May now clearly remembers how the bickering started, and couldn't feel more proud of it.

"I'm going to head to the café for some water," May announces suddenly, getting up from the black couch with a faint squeak of leather following behind her. She pauses only to flip a lock of her silky blonde hair over her shoulder before making her way to the door. "I assume no one wanted anything?"

Drew seatrains a grumble in his throat, but manages to say, "It's not like you'd get anything for me anyway—"

"Right, didn't think so."

And with that, May pulled down the knob and exited Solidad's office.

"I guess I'll be one apologising for her behaviour today," Harley says, fighting the urge to say 'again' at the end of his sentence.

He often wondered how many times he would say sorry to Solidad and Drew on May's behalf. He also wondered how many times _they_ apologised to _them_, and it happened so occasionally that he thinks that they were now taking turns just so neither one would feel even more offended. Harley makes a mental note that next time they were to have another one of these private meetings, Solidad was going to be the one requesting for forgiveness.

As he packed away his things into his own briefcase, Harley just catches Solidad shaking her head from her desk. "No, don't worry about it," she says tiringly. "I just wonder how we haven't gotten used to their fighting."

"I'm still here you know?" Drew pointed out, who was now memorising his script in his seemingly bored, effortless manner.

Taking the courtesy to laugh, just a little bit, Harley turns back to Solidad with his case held promptly in his left hand. "Maybe 'getting used' to it, is impossible for us." Keeping his eyes on Solidad's defeated expression he adds, "Speaking of which, I should catch up to M. We have some things to work on before tomorrow's broadcast."

Harley exits the office with a smile, shutting the door behind him so quietly he could hear the faint hum of music emanating somewhere in the building.

Staying behind just long enough to make sure neither Drew nor Solidad was about to leave, Harley hastily journeys down the hall and into the stairwell, where he was sure May was going to be. He loosens downs his tie, and hopes that nothing was going to go wrong.

Hurryingly, Harley takes out a small box from one of the inner pockets of his blazer, and sets down his briefcase so that he could support May before she did something imprudent like fall down several flights before reaching the bottom.

May's winded breath echoes down the shaft. One of her hand grips tightly around the rails as the other clutches onto her top for dear life. Her cheeks are flushed an atrocious pink.

"How many times have I told you not to go off at him like that?" Harley says sternly, shaking the box until a small white ball decided to present itself onto the palm of his hand. "You should know better."

Almost a second later, May pushes Harley's hand up until she swallowed the tiny sphere down her throat. The lump on her neck slowly disappears, leaving a relaxed, steady breathing May as a result.

Putting a hand to her forehead, May sinks down until she is sitting on one of the grey granite steps. Harley releases her from his embrace and closes up the small box, returning it where it always belonged when they needed it.

"I think it's getting worse," May says disconsolately. She rubs her eyes, forcing them to stay shut, but they opened regardless of what she wanted. "I thought I could handle it. I really did."

Harley says nothing as he leans on the wall beside her. His inner breast pocket suddenly felt heavier.

"It just that _he_—" She wasn't going to do anything bad. She couldn't now she was like this, so there was nothing to worry about. After all, Harley was with her, and he'd make sure everything was going to be fine. "_He_ is making me feel horrible."

With a ragged breath, May clutches her hands together as if she was praying to the Legends to help her.

"He drives me insane . . ."

* * *

_**Not much to say about this chapter except it was pretty boring. Things will start to pick up in the next chapter, I promise. That is if I can get it up. We'll see how that goes XP I really want to put up the middle chapters I kind have, maybe, already wrote, so I can't wait for that day to come XP**_

_**Wish me lucks in exams by leaving a review ;)**_

* * *

**XOXO AsianBunny**


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